


Baggage

by mertlekang



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drug Use, HIV/AIDS, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Past Youngjae/Bambam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5715895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mertlekang/pseuds/mertlekang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rent!AU - Jaebum and Youngjae have been living together in a shitty apartment on the wrong side of town for years, struggling to pay their rent and carrying the weight of their past mistakes. With the introduction of a new neighbour, a meeting with an old flame and the help of a stranger after a mugging, new relationships are built and their lives grow all the more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based around the musical 'Rent' which is brilliant and I urge everyone to watch it.  
> Youngjae is an aspiring scriptwriter/screenwriter, Jaebum is the brooding musician, Jinyoung is the stripper with an addiction, Yugyeom is the tormented law student with boyfriend troubles, Bambam is the boyfriend trouble, Jackson is the loveable teddybear and Mark is an angel.  
> I'll be taking a few things directly from the script of the original broadway transcript so -  
> DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own any of the themes, storylines or excerpts from Jonathan Larsons 'RENT' this is simply an homage to the original work and I am making no money off this.  
> Trigger warnings for drug use, characters living with HIV, mentions of homophobia, Major character death (sorry!)  
> JB/JR centric but still revolving strongly around each different relationship.  
> I might update quite slowly as I'm starting my next semester of Uni now but comments always help the chapters come out ~

\- One -

 

 

_'We begin on Christmas Eve with me, Youngjae, and my roommate, Jaebum._

_We live in an industrial loft, the top floor of what was once a music publishing factory._

_Old rock 'n' roll posters hang on the walls. They have Jaebum's picture advertising gigs at CBGB's and the Pyramid Club._

_We have an illegal wood burning stove; its exhaust pipe crawls up to a skylight. All of our electrical appliances are plugged into one thick extension cord which snakes its way out a window._

_Outside, it's snowing, inside, we are freezing because we have no heat.'_

 

Youngjae snuggled deeper into the bundle of blankets he was swaddled in, breath ghosting the air as a warning of how cold it was outside of his cocoon. This place was always cold; except for in the summer, when it would get so hot you'd consider jumping out of the window just to catch a breeze before you died. Gritting his teeth, he threw back the blankets and tensed against the shock of cold bleeding in through his multiple layers of clothing like being pricked by a thousand needles. He didn't wait around, letting out sharp breaths as he jogged to the bathroom.

The toilet had been broken since he'd moved in, and you had to shove your hand into the icy water of the cistern to flush - which had frozen. He cursed, thankful he'd only needed to pee, before battling with the rusty shower until a weak spray dribbled out of the head. Brushing his teeth, he jumped from foot to foot as he waited for the water to heat up, eager for the warmth on his skin. Winter in this place was brutal.

He stripped miserably, every layer of clothing he removed bringing him closer and closer to the frigid air until he was naked and whimpering. Once his fifth pair of socks was off, he stepped into what he'd assumed would be a lukewarm - it never got anywhere near hot - shower, only to be assaulted with wet daggers of ice. He cried out in shock, dancing away from the offensive spray and pounding on the wall to get the heat moving like it usually did, but to no avail. He gave up, jumping out of the shower feeling miserable and pulling his clothes back on feverishly, chilled to the bone but very much awake.

Returning to his room, he threw on a coat and an extra pair of socks before heading into the living room and finding his housemate swaddled up as if he was ice fishing, more pale and gaunt than usual - he hadn't been looking after himself for a while, and Youngjae made a mental note to buy some groceries. It wasn't as if his housemate would actually cook anything for himself, but a stocked kitchen would probably be more encouraging. He was sat on their threadbare couch, throwing balled up paper into the flames of their stove.

'Heatings off.' Jaebum stated matter of factly without glancing at him, and he nodded absently before throwing himself down beside the older man. A spring jabbed him in the back and he shifted grumpily, finding some change shoved down the armrest in the process; the day wasn't going that badly after all.

'I gathered that. Is this safe?' He nodded towards the fire at the exact moment an unruly ball of lit paper rebounded, rolling across the bare floorboards before burning out to nothing.

'Does it matter? Place is a dump anyway. I wouldn't care if the whole place went up in flames, at least we'd be warm.'

Youngjae watched as Jaebum continued to ball the papers up rhythmically, eyes distant and face glum. They'd been living together for four years now; it was initially Jaebum's apartment, but he'd advertised his spare room when his father had disowned him. He liked to make out that he didn't want him around, but Youngjae had a sneaking suspicion that he thrived off the company. It was a big apartment, but it had been a dump since the day Youngjae had moved in; Jaebum's father had bought him the apartment, and Youngjae supposed it was some act of rebellion to ruin it, or maybe it was simply a reflection of how much of a mess his life turned into. Being an arts student, Youngjae couldn't say no to the cheap rent, even if it meant being frozen to the bone most of the time - even when the heating was on, Jaebum was just a frosty guy to be around, always wallowing in his own misery.

It had taken a lot of prying to find out anything about Jaebum, but it made sense to Youngjae why he was so cold and closed off. He was a good guy who'd got the short straw in life, and Youngjae could handle his short temper when compared to how he could be when he was in a happier mood. And the rent was really, really cheap.

'Why is the heating off, anyway?' Youngjae asked, voice echoing in the large space with only the crackling of the fire and the crunching of paper to accompany it.

'Didn't pay.' The older man muttered, and Youngjae raised an eyebrow incredulously.

'...Well, I paid. You. I paid you, what happened to the money that I paid you?' Youngjae asked, wide eyed and slightly frustrated. 'Are you using again?'

'I'm not fucking using, back off.' Jaebum got to his feet, broad back turned to him as he stormed grumpily into the kitchen. Youngjae's eyes fell upon the papers Jaebum had left behind, exasperated to see that it was his sheet music for the play he was working on.

'Jaebum, did you have to burn my shit?' Youngjae stood up abruptly, fingers flying to tangle in his hair in exasperation. 'I've been working on that piece for months.'

'There's still some left.' The older man mumbled from the kitchen, and Youngjae let out a silent scream, kicking the sofa hard. He'd known Jaebum too long to even attempt an argument, knowing it would only end in more frustration due his apathetic attitude. He sighed, thankful for his own easygoing nature, and heard Jaebum murmur again from the kitchen. 'Your money, I used it to pay for my medicine.' His voice was tired, as if it caused him great effort just to utter the words. Youngjae joined him in the kitchen, leaning on the countertop and folding his arms.

'If you needed help with money you should have just asked me, you know I can get my family to help every once in a while-'

'I'm not pathetic enough that I'd steal from my youngers.' He grumbled, rummaging through the empty cupboards with a frown.

'Pathetic enough to steal from them, though, huh?'

Youngjae would be lying if he said Jaebum slamming the cupboard door didn't make him jump out of his skin. It was hard living with someone with such a short temper, especially when said person had a physique like Jaebum. The two of them weren't as close as they should have been after so many years, Youngjae never being able to break down the towering, thick walls Jaebum had built around himself. He'd accepted that, supporting Jaebum from the background as much as he could - because Jaebum needed support, whether he wanted it or not.

Youngjae knew from experience that when he was in this kind of mood, staying silent was the best idea; a lesson learnt in the form of a black eye and a broken rib on a night Jaebum was feeding one of his other vices.

Jaebum slumped around the kitchen broodily, seemingly having settled on having coffee for breakfast. It wasn't a surprise to Youngjae when the older man finally paused, slouching against the counter and running his fingers through his copper hair - it always went this way, a storm that passed and left behind how Jaebum was truly feeling. 'I got laid off a month ago, didn't expect my money to run out this quickly. They fired me after someone complained about having - in the customers words - a dirty faggot touching their food.'

'You should've told me.' Youngjae breathed, trying to keep the pity out of his voice, off his face. Jaebum hated being pitied. 'You never went to that dance gym I mentioned - they were eager to interview you.'

'I can't dance any more, you know that. It's hard enough getting out of bed.'

'You can instruct, choreograph, you just need to start eating better-'

Jaebum gave Youngjae a sharp look, slanted eyes turning to slits of black as he closed himself off again. 'You meddle too much, Youngjae. I'll figure something out - I'm your hyung, not the other way around.'

He was caught between rolling his eyes or slapping the man, but he simply smiled the smile he was known for, relenting to Jaebum's stubbornness. 'Sorry, hyung.' He bit out, moving away from the counter to leave Jaebum in his mood, but the older man grabbed his wrist suddenly, eyes averted.

'Don't take it personally, I just... I don't want anyone controlling my life any more. I'll sort this out myself.' Youngjae sighed, nodding as Jaebum's hand slipped from its grip.

'Take your meds.' He muttered before he left him alone in the kitchen looking worn and defeated.

One thing he'd learnt in those four years was that you can't fix people, especially when they were as broken as Jaebum.

The answering machine clicked as he went to sit back down on the couch, and he hovered by the telephone. Youngjae had set it to go straight to the answering machine as soon as he'd moved in, knowing it would be ringing off the hook with worried calls from his parents. He sighed at the sound of his mothers antsy voice.

'That was a very loud beep

I don't even know if this is working

Youngjae - Youngjae - are you there?

It's Mom, we wanted to call and say we love you and we'll miss you tomorrow.

Your sister and the kids are here, they send their love

I know it's hard this time of year but be careful with your bills, don't leave your lights on! Make sure your fire is out before you leave the house, dear.

Oh, and Yugyeom, we're sorry to hear that Bambam dumped you.

I say let it be! Maybe now you can find a nice girl and settle down, I always told you it was simply an infatuation. It's not in God's plan for that kind of thing to last.

There are other fishies in the sea!

Merry Christmas, sweetie - call me back when you have time.'

 

He rolled his eyes, intending on tearing the damn thing from the wall at the sound of another incoming call, but paused at the voice that echoed out into the room. He picked up the receiver hastily, stumbling over his words for a moment.

'Bambam? Your equipment won't work? Okay, all right, I'm on my way.'

-

Jackson sauntered down the snow-crusted street, breath fogging the air and ears burning pink. It had been a long time since he'd been back here, escaping the city and abandoning Jaebum's couch for a clean break interning at a record company. He'd never forgotten Jaebum's apartment, the way the walls seemed to close in on you the longer you stayed, and Jaebum's misery was something you could smell, taste and feel whenever he was around, which was almost all the time. As much as he loved the older man, his aura could be truly oppressive and even someone as bubbly as Jackson couldn't handle it for long. He tried his best, if not for Jaebum's sake then for Youngjae's, but even though he came across as simple and lighthearted, he had his own baggage to carry and taking on everyone else's sometimes proved too much for his shoulders to bear.

He'd been walking for hours and his toes were thoroughly numbed, fingers stiff in his pockets where he clutched his wallet. The neighbourhood was rough, and the streets were always badly lit closer to home. Almost as if his thoughts were being read, only a moment after turning into the alley that led him to the flat he heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow, hushed whispers and rustling clothes. If it was just one guy he could dispatch them easily, but of course his luck didn't stretch that far. Thankfully he had fast hands, shoving his wallet down his briefs and hoping none of these guys were perverts.

Turning, he saw the shadows of three men, all taller and wider than him. He walked backwards quickly, hoping to get as close to Jaebum's as possible if things turned sour, but they were upon him too quickly, the tallest pushing him up against the rough brick wall by the collar of his jacket.

'Hey, hey - if you wanted to kiss me you just had to ask, I'm not into all this kinky shit.' He coughed beneath the strong hand gripping his throat. A strong blow caught him in the stomach, knocking the air from him in a gust as he doubled over. Another guy rummaged through his pockets roughly, seeming disappointed at what he found in there - empty chewing gum wrappers, an out-of-date bus ticket, an extremely hairy chunk of candy. The second guy groaned in frustration, and the third guy seemed just as pissed off if the punch to his face was any indication. They laid into him in earnest, then, despite his attempts at fighting back. Fencing was a really useless thing to have under your belt in these situations, he often found.

By the time he was on the ground, they'd dispersed and disappeared, leaving him to cough blood onto the snow and pant through the pain.

'Merry Christmas.' He grunted, attempting to sit upright, but every muscle protested. It was getting colder, lying there, and it only added insult to injury that the flat was only a few paces away. 'Well, it's probably warmer here than in there.' He mumbled to himself, pulling his knees to his chest as he shivered, the snow biting into his cheek and burning his ear.

He must have actually managed to fall asleep somehow, because the next thing he knew it was snowing and footsteps were crunching towards him. 'Hey, are you okay?' Came a deep voice, and when Jackson turned his head to look he could've sworn he was dead or something. So he did.

'Am I dead or something?'

'What? Here, sit up, you're freezing.' The angel fussed, pulling him up to a sitting position despite his groans of pain. 'What happened? Are you drunk?'

'I wish I was,' He grinned his most flirtatious grin, which probably didn't go over well with blood in his teeth and snot all over his face. 'Got mugged. Well, I wasn't even good enough to mug, they just kicked the shit out of me and bounced.'

The stranger smiled sympathetically at that, and Jackson felt himself warm just at the sight of it. Even in the dim light of the alley, he could make out the things that mattered; the strong eyebrows, red lips - was this guy wearing lipstick? - and high cheekbones. In retrospect he should've told this guy he was drunk just so he could throw himself at him and have an excuse for doing so.

'Come here often?' He cheesed, head wobbling in his dizziness as the stranger laughed a strange, bubbly laugh. Jackson wanted to hear it again.

'No, actually. I'm visiting a friend, my name's Mark.' He smiled, and Jackson saw stars. 'Come on, get up. I think you were lying to me about not being drunk. Either that or you have a serious concussion.' He pulled one of Jackson's arms over his shoulder, pulling him up with surprising strength for someone so skinny.

'I'm Jackson, and m'not drunk.' He hissed at the pain in his ribs as he stood on both feet, supported by Mark's lithe frame, but the pain ebbed at the sound of that tittering laugh spilling forth again. 'You have a cute laugh.'

Mark looked at him quickly, raising an eyebrow before he turned away shyly. 'Do you live close?'

'You're eager,' Jackson smirked, satisfied when Mark's face scrunched up a little, flustered. 'I was on my way to surprise some old housemates, it's just five minutes away, thanks. Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable.'

Mark shook his head, and Jackson realised just how close he was leaning in to the thinner man. He was warm. 'It's alright, I'm always uncomfortable.' They walked awkwardly, Jackson having no choice but to lean heavily on the slightly taller man, footsteps heavy as they closed in on the apartment at a snails pace. Jackson didn't mind - he didn't want to leave Mark's arms for a good while yet, so what if he was acting up the pain a little bit. 'Looks like we're going in the same direction, anyway. I think it's only fair you repay me for this kind deed.' Mark smirked, eyes twinkling in the dim light and Jackson took a moment to realise he'd even said words.

'All I have is some old chewing gum and a disturbing amount of boiled candy at the bottom of my pocket. Take what you want, unless you can think of something else.'

Mark huffed a laugh, throwing his head back and exposing a slender, pale neck previously hidden by his thick trenchcoat. 'I was thinking more along the lines of letting me take you back to my friends apartment, cleaning you up. You okay with that?' He looked at Jackson hesitantly, shoulders stiff and eyes wide.

'Yeah, sure. I'll be talking your ear off all night, though. That's what I do.'

'I can't remember the last time someone spoke to me, so talk away.' Mark beamed, a shy hue to his smile that made Jackson's fingers tingle - or maybe that was the cold. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but he hesitated before his lips moved. 'I uh, I have a Life Support meeting in the morning, if you want to tag along. I don't really know anyone there...'

'Life Support?'

'It's for people with AIDS,' he paused, looking into Jackson's eyes. 'People like me.'

Mark looked truly terrified, like he'd run if the wind changed, and Jackson just laughed softly. 'Looks like we have something in common.'

-

Jinyoung felt the music thrumming in his ears, sweat dripping from his brow as he threw his head back and spread his knee's on the dirty stage. He undulated his hips, tight jeans straining at the stretch as his abdomen rose and fell, breaths short and frantic. He always forgot his routines when the lights were on him and the money was being shoved down his pants, resorting to whatever dirty dance moves he could think up in the moment. He was surprised he hadn't been sacked yet, even he knew he was more trouble than he was worth, but he raked in the cash every time. The club wouldn't be the same without him.

He ground his hips filthily down against the polished wood, feeling a wandering hand slip down the back of his pants. He turned to slap the bastard, but noticed the handsome tip stuffed down his underwear, deciding to let it slide. No touching was a valid rule, but if the tip was good enough he'd ease up just a little. Unzipping his jeans teasingly, he faced the crowd of balding business men that clawed at him blindly, giving them a show by running a hand up his bare, wet chest and playing with his reddened nipples. He threw his head back in feigned ecstasy, jaw slackened and moans wanton, audible even over the booming bass.

Jinyoung was good at his job.

Sitting backstage, he tucked his feet up beside him on the chair, wearing only his boxers as he counted the sweaty, crumpled notes. He'd had better nights, but it was enough to get what he wanted. It stank of perfume back here, the harsh lights around the mirror making him look rakishly thin and worn, and he shoved his things into his backpack roughly. The way he saw it, if you were going to die, why not indulge in all the things that are supposed to kill you anyway? What was another hit when your body could give up this week or the next, regardless of what you were doing with it.

He'd had a life, once, a future, prospects. He'd had a lot of things, and it was funny how easy it was to live without them. Other things were a lot harder to shake.

The icy cold bit at his hands as he passed the folded bills inconspicuously into the man's hands, the two of them wrapped in shadow where they belonged. Feeling the lightness of the small plastic packet in his palm set him at ease, simply holding it serving to quell his nervous heart. He'd tried to quit a thousand times, but he always came back to its warm, heavy embrace. Life was easier if you didn't have to think, didn't have to feel, didn't have to be.

Tonight would be special, he thought giddily as he almost ran back to his flat. He hadn't jacked up in almost a week, and the anticipation was almost arousing, setting his nerves on fire as if he was about to get the best fuck of his life. Everything seemed to take too long, the steps going on forever, the key turning too slowly in the lock. By the time he was inside he was shaking, sweat beading on his forehead as he shook off his coat and kicked off his boots, pulling out his affectionately named 'magic box' with trembling hands.

It was then that he heard a soft melody, the lazy sound of fingers strumming strings, a voice both husky and light, rich like treacle as it dripped in through the open window. Rarely did Jinyoung get distracted from his fix, but curiosity was in his nature, and he padded over to his balcony with bare feet and naked shoulders, looking up the fire exit to see where that voice was coming from. Surprised wasn't the right word - enraptured, smitten, besotted, any one of those would do. Jinyoung was used to getting what he wanted, and right then his fix was second in line to the demon sat over the railing; guitar in hand and sharp jaw upturned to the frosty night.

Jinyoung wanted him.

He darted back inside, the air just as frigid, and rifled around for a condom, shoving it in his back pocket and grabbing a pack of cigarettes. He tiptoed up the fire escape, toes icy against the metal as he crept towards the man who'd currently snatched his attention. His back was broad, tapering nicely into a slim waist beneath his sweatshirt, and his thighs looked strong beneath his black ripped jeans. Coppery hair caught in the breeze and a pair of scuffed Doc Marten's on his feet, Jinyoung was praying the face was just as appealing.

'Do you have a light?' He asked suddenly, and he very nearly killed the man. He swayed violently, startled by Jinyoung's voice as he cursed before regaining his balance and turning to face him, flustered and pissed off. The face was definitely as appealing, even if it didn't look happy.

'What the fuck?' He growled, eyes in thin lines as he scowled at Jinyoung. All the thinner man could see were the twin moles above his left eye, the way his piercings glinted in the moonlight.

'Do you have a light? My gas is out, can't find a lighter.' He cocked his head to the side, biting his lip and watching the man look him up and down distractedly before he seemed to catch himself, snapping his eyes away abruptly.

'Yeah, yeah. Wait there.' He grumbled, voice thick and rough - just how Jinyoung liked it. Of course, he didn't do as he was told, following the man inside silently as a cat and startling him once again. 'Did I say you could come in?'

'If you were on my balcony in the cold, I'd let you come inside.' Jinyoung smirked, winking. Jaebum didn't seem amused by his wit, though, sighing in frustration as he held a lighter out. 'Hm, my hands are too cold, can you light it for me?' It really looked like he was pushing his luck, but Jinyoung was never one to turn away from a challenge. Grudgingly, the taller man flicked the lighter, an orange glow emanating between them and lighting up the taller boys features. Jinyoung cupped his hand, guiding the lighter closer to the stranger so he could lean in more. He made a show of slipping a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked the smoke into his lungs. 'Thanks, what's your name by the way? I've never seen you around before.'

'I didn't realise this was a social call.' The taller man huffed, rolling his eyes. 'Im Jaebum.'

'Park Jinyoung, a pleasure to meet you.' He purred, leaning back against the sofa by the window, looking over every inch of Jaebum. 'Play me a song.'

'Excuse me?' Jaebum cocked an eyebrow, affronted. 'You have really bad manners, you know.'

'Play me a song, please?' Jinyoung smiled sweetly, not missing the way Jaebum looked away quickly.

'You got what you came for,' He muttered, slumping into the sad looking armchair across from Jinyoung and rubbing at his forehead tiredly. 'Close the window on your way out.'

Well, Jinyoung hadn't expected him to be such a downer. Twisting the threads hanging from the arm of the sofa, he huffed, looking around the dark apartment. Jinyoung's flat was half the size of it, but no less barren. This was the top floor, the loft; floor length windows lining one wall and bare floorboards spanning the vast space of the living room, helping to make it even more frigid. The fire wasn't lit, the only light in the room coming through the windows, painting Jaebum in silvery blue. A few years ago, Jinyoung would've thought about painting the scene; capturing Jaebum's apparent loneliness, the way the light highlighted the planes of his cheekbones and dyed his hair purple.

However, things were different now, and Jinyoung didn't think about those things anymore.

Jaebum's hand had fallen to rest over his eyes, making him seem even more exhausted, and Jinyoung was drawn to him, making the taller man jump as he settled into his lap. He jolted as if to shove Jinyoung off, but the smaller man wasn't so easily moved. Wrapping his arms around Jaebum's broad shoulders, he smirked devilishly, straddling him despite his resistance. 'You don't really think I climbed up here just for a lighter, honey.' Jaebum gave up resisting, going completely still but no less tense. 'Don't pretend you weren't checking out my ass, I saw you.'

The taller man fixed him with a steady look - not quite a glare, but it felt like one. 'Do you have nothing better to do?'

'You can touch me if you want to, I don't bite - unless you're into that.' He chuckled, taking Jaebum's hands from where they were firmly glued to the arm rests and placing them roughly on his ass. It was getting kind of boring, really; nothing Jinyoung did seemed to be ruffling this guys feathers, and there was nothing he hated more than being ignored. Jaebum cocked an eyebrow slowly, hands cupping Jinyoung's ass and drawing a surprised gasp from the smaller man before long fingers dipped into his back pocket quickly, withdrawing a small bag of white powder that he waved between them. Jinyoung smirked, 'There's enough to share.'

'You're far too young to be doing this shit.' He said seriously, as if he pitied Jinyoung. Jinyoung hated pity.

'I'm nineteen not twelve, you can't be much older than me.' He spat, snatching at the small sachet, but Jaebum moved it out of his reach.

'Twenty-six. Old enough to know that this'll fuck your life up.'

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, not in the mood for another lecture he'd heard a thousand times over. He traced Jaebum's sharp jaw with his cold fingers - was this guy carved from marble or something? - not flustered by the way he simply stared back at him with dull eyes. leans in close, feeling his soft, steady breaths before he nudged at his lips with his own, breathing 'Gonna get high with me or what?'

'Fuck your life up if you want, but don't bring me into it.'

Jinyoung pulled away, exasperated as he sat back. 'I'd rather fuck up my life having fun than become this dull, you might as well be dead. Nobody lives forever, make the most of it.' He trailed his hand down Jaebum's hard chest, growing even more impatient at his lack of interest. Jinyoung never failed in his pursuits.

'You're shaking.'

'It's cold.'

'I used to shiver like that.'

'I told you-'

'I used to sweat.'

'I have a cold.'

'I used to be a junkie, too.'

Jinyoung recoiled for a moment, but collected himself quickly, plastering a smile on his face. 'What's wrong with...' He pressed his hand to Jaebum's crotch, and this time the man of marble couldn't keep up the façade, choking suddenly as his hips jumped. '...feeling good?'

Jinyoung was forced off the taller man's lap as he stood abruptly, barely inches between them as Jaebum stared down at him with a heavy gaze. Jinyoung raked his eyes down Jaebum's body slowly, taking in his slightly laboured breaths, before his fingers danced along the front seam of his jeans. Jaebum gulped audibly, and Jinyoung couldn't hide his gratified smirk, quickly snatching his dope from Jaebum's front pocket and dancing away from him, waving it victoriously in the air.

'You should come visit me sometime, I bet I could get that cold heart pumping again.' He snickered, giving Jaebum one last slow look before he climbed out of the window once more, heart thumping in anticipation of his hit and mind filled with thoughts of how Jaebum might look when he smiled - or when he came.

-

One New Message

Message Left At 14:44, 24th December

Hi. You've reached Bambam and Yugyeom. Leave a message and don't forget  
"Over the Moon" -- My performance, protesting the eviction of the Homeless  
(and artists) from the Eleventh Street Lot. Tonight at midnight in the lot  
between A and B. Party at Life Café to follow

(BEEP)

'Well, Yugyeom - We're off.  
I tried you at the office and they said you're stage managing or something, we'll be at the spa for new year's unless the senator changes his mind.

\- The party

Oh, yes honey. Your mother's 40th is on the tenth, we'll need you, alone, by the sixth. You'll be staying the week. Don't bring your... friend.  
For your mother's sake, son - don't mention any of this silly stuff you've been doing with that boy. None of those silly clothes either, dress like a man, there'll be contacts around for you to acquaint yourself with. You've been interning too long, it's time you got a real job.

Love, Dad.'

 

Yugyeom deleted the message, rolling his eyes as he paced up and down in the freezing warehouse. This was the last time he'd do a favour for Bambam. He turned at the sound of footsteps, a man swaddled in black coming in through the sliding door and heaving it closed with a groan.

'Youngjae?' His voice echoed in the vast space, and the other man turned to him with a smile that could put the sun to shame. If Yugyeom was a more sensitive soul, jealousy would've made an appearance right about now. Sadly, he was indeed a sensitive soul.

'That's me!'

'I told him not to call you.'

'Ah, well, that's Bambam.' Youngjae had a cheerful voice, as if it was filled with laughter that might burst forth at any moment. Yugyeom probably would've liked him if he was someone else. As it stood, the nicer he seemed, the more Yugyeom wanted to hit him. 'Since I'm here, can I help?'

'I've called a technician.'

Youngjae flashed him a bright smile, waving his hands about. 'Great! Well, it's nice to have met you.'

The older man turned to walk away, but Yugyeom let out a heavy sigh, reluctantly calling out to him. 'Wait. He's three hours late, sorry for being rude. I'm stressed.'

Youngjae stopped in his tracks, spinning on his heel and walking to the small podium Yugyeom stood on with a bounce in his step. 'It's alright, I'll have a look at it and see what I can do. What exactly isn't working?'

'There's a cable for the microphone that's been chewed through - is it fixable?'

Youngjae pondered over the mess of equipment that Bambam had made Yugyeom drag there earlier that day, poking at wires and making small contemplative noises. He wondered what Bambam had seen in him, if it was the allure of an older guy or the fact that he was just so damn nice. Actually, the latter was probably why they broke up - Bambam got bored fast, Yugyeom was already finding that out after just a few months living with the guy.

'There's another way to patch it through, don't worry.' He smiled encouragingly, and Yugyeom couldn't help but return it, warming up to the guy already.

'This is weird.' He breathed, rubbing at his forehead tiredly, and Youngjae let out an open mouthed chuckle that made Yugyeom want to laugh too. Infectious.

'It's pretty weird, but being with Bambam will never be normal, sorry to break it to you.'

'You can say that again.' Yugyeom sighed, folding his arms as he sat tiredly on one of the television sets Bambam needed for his piece. It was a freestyle rap on living conditions and local authoritarian pressures in the community, or something, with some random shit thrown in. Yugyeom didn't really get it.

Youngjae glanced at him from where he was meddling with the wires. 'Wanna share?'

'I don't know if I should be talking to my boyfriends ex about my relationship troubles.' Yugyeom raised his eyebrows ironically, still uncomfortable to even be in the situation.

'Well, I've been in your position before. I can relate.' He spared a sympathetic look, and Yugyeom could see he was being honest. It was a relief that Youngjae seemed to understand his problems even without saying anything - apparently being with Bambam was a uniform experience. 'Looking at other boys - and other girls? Calling you weird pet names?'

'He doesn't call me pet names.'

'Got the first one right though, didn't I?' It wasn't said with malice at all, an almost exhausted tone to Youngjae's voice, and Yugyeom couldn't help but nod his assent.

'He only moved into my flat a few months ago and he's already taken over, even set the message on my answer machine. My parents didn't even know I was gay.'

'That's rough.' Youngjae pursed his lips, flicking a few switches and causing a high pitched noise to screech through the microphone and echo sharply. 'Well, it's fixed.' He stood up, awkwardly patting his hips before leaning against a large bass speaker. 'I don't know if it's the same for you, but it was like walking on a tightrope. Keeping him happy and giving him attention constantly - you're not allowed to do anything, but he's free as a bird. I always thought it was the age gap but, yeah, apparently not. Better to have had him at all than to never have known him, as infuriating as I'm sure that sounds.'

'Still in love with him?' Yugyeom asked halfheartedly, already knowing the answer.

'With Bambam, love is a losing game.'

Yugyeom jumped at the sound of his phone ringing loudly in the empty space, answering it abruptly. 'Bambam? Yeah, it's fixe- Gyeomie? You've never called me that before... No, it doesn't matter. It's fixed, see you later.'

Youngjae just raised an eyebrow, and Yugyeom hated him all over again.

-

Mark stirred his coffee, the spoon rattling against the ceramic loudly in the silence of the apartment. His friend was out somewhere, having left the window wide open and effectively turning the place into an freezer. He heard a series of bumps, an exclamation of pain.

'I told you to sit down and stay down.' He sighed, returning to the living room and setting the coffee on the stained, messy table. Jackson was lying in a heap beside the sofa, gripping at his abdomen with a pained grin. Christ, this guy was a dumbass - an adorable dumbass.

'I didn't know it was an order, I'll behave next time, master.' Jackson winked, and Mark rolled his eyes in exasperation. How Jackson could flirt so shamelessly even while injured was beyond him. He pulled the heavier man to sit on the sofa, kneeling across from him with a wet towel and dabbing at the cuts on his face as he hissed in pain.

'They messed you up pretty bad, huh. Do you need anything?'

'A kiss?'

'Are you always this flirty?' Mark laughed breathily, suddenly aware of how close he was to Jackson's full (though busted) lips, dabbing at the cut there to excuse the fact he was staring at them.

The shorter man smiled sunnily, 'Only with cute guys, like you.' Mark scoffed, eyes jumping around for something else to focus on as he grew flustered. It had been a long while since someone had taken an interest in him, and an even longer while since it was okay for that to happen. Jackson shifted, shrugging his coat off to reveal a pair of wonderfully broad shoulders. Mark didn't stare, not at all. 'So, how does someone as pretty as you end up in a town like this?'

'Parents didn't want a gay son, definitely didn't want a gay son with AIDS. They think it's infectious, but it's stupidity that's the real plague.'

'Ah, been there, done that.' Jackson smiled, and it made Mark's heart skip slightly, his eyes fixing upon the task at hand so he didn't end up losing himself in those deep brown eyes.

'What about you?'

'I used to be on the national fencing team in high school but, yeah. Drugs are bad - I'm clean now, but I guess those mistakes follow you around.' Mark raised an eyebrow, impressed by how athletic Jackson must have been and finding his thoughts drawn to how muscular legs those legs might be, whether he still knew how to use his sword.

'I would've thought an athlete could handle himself better than this.' Mark teased, raising an eyebrow and smirking, to which Jackson pouted petulantly.

'There were three of them, it's not like I was a champion boxer or something.' Mark smiled softly at Jackson's childishness, the way he was getting visibly wound up over that one comment. 'Why are you laughing? I really was an athlete, I'm not making it up.' Mark just nodded absently, clearing away the last trace of blood from Jackson's face before he sat back on the balls of his feet.

'Alright, alright. Were the communal showers as heavenly as I always imagined them to be? I was homeschooled.'

Jackson smirked, happy to return the teasing. 'Look at you, not good enough for us lowly public school peasants?' Mark chuckled, and Jackson looked away. 'Nothing fun happened in there, lots of sweaty ugly dudes who'd slap your ass and call you a faggot as if it was a funny pet name.'

Mark scrunched his nose up at the word, turned off from the fantasy. 'Geez, nevermind. Do you need some help standing? There's a heater in the spare room my friend has set me up in.'

'I uh, thought I'd be staying on the sofa, actually.' Jackson mumbled hesitantly, and Mark cocked his head to the side.

'You'd freeze to death out here, don't be shy.' He stood, offering a hand to Jackson who took it tentatively, wincing as he stood before Mark guided him to the spare room; taking his time just so he could enjoy the weight of Jackson's arm on his shoulder, the hardness of his body slumped against him. How long had it been since he'd touched another person?

'I don't mean to be rude but what a dump.' Jackson stated bluntly as he tapped the door open with his foot, and Mark couldn't hold in his giggle, not noticing the warm glance Jackson threw his way.

'My thoughts exactly, I haven't been back here in a while.' He guided Jackson over to the bed, a grunt leaving the shorter man's lips as he sat down heavily. 'My friend isn't in a good place at the moment, I came back to give him some support. Looks like it's worse than I thought it was.' Honestly, it saddened Mark deeply to see it in such a mess. He could only wonder what state his friends bedroom was in if this was the spare room - mould climbing the walls and broken canvases strewn all over the place. At least there was a bed, he thought dimly as he clicked on the heater, that was more than Mark had had in a while.

Jackson kicked off his snow-covered boots, unfastening his belt unabashedly. Mark averted his eyes, leaving the room quickly before calling back to give Jackson directions to the bathroom if he needed it. Once he was inside said bathroom, he leaned his head against the door for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He had a very attractive guy lying in his bed, a very sweet, funny, silly guy. Mark could touch this guy; he wouldn't be faced with revulsion and rejection at the revelation of his disease, could touch him as much as he wanted to without worrying about hurting him.

He washed his face in the ice cold water, deciding to forgo a shower tonight even if he stank - it was just too fucking cold. Sneakily using his friends toothbrush, he checked his appearance. It had been too long since he'd dyed his hair, completely brown save for the red at the tips; thankfully he'd been able to keep up with cutting it, even if it was rough and askew. He'd always been thin, so that wasn't something out of the ordinary; the bags under his eyes and his cracked lips were another story.

Going without his medication was taking its toll, he knew that. He felt weaker every day, fighting off the illnesses being dirty and cold might bring with willpower alone. Being here was his chance at getting things back together, getting some money, getting back on his meds... he just hoped Jackson stuck around to see him at his best rather than his worst. Then again, if Jackson found him cute as he was right then, he really didn't have much to worry about.

He dragged his fingers through his hair, slapping his cheeks and willing himself to go back in there. He didn't want the thought of actually sleeping with Jackson tonight to even cross his mind, thankful that the shorter guy was battered and bruised. While he was more than eager to be touched again, especially by Jackson's hands, it was too much for him to process. The last time had cost him everything, he wasn't going to risk the small amount that was left.

Jackson was a feast to Mark's hungry eyes, devouring the sight of him sprawled out on the bed already fast asleep in just his boxers. He was thin, but nowhere near as thin as Mark, bones still clinging to defined muscle where Mark's had long wasted away. He shrugged out of his clothes, keeping his sweater on to fight the chill that still lingered even with the heater at full whack, before climbing in gingerly beside the barely clothed stranger.

Thirty seconds hadn't even passed before strong arms were wrapped around him and Jackson's nose was pressed against his neck, warm breaths fluttering against the sensitive skin. Mark had never been one for spooning, but somehow it felt right to be in Jackson's embrace, pulling him down alongside him to the warm, thick sleep that had been eluding him for so long.

He didn't hear Jinyoung creep back in through the window, nor did he hear the groan of pleasure from the next room as he poured poison into his veins; the moan that left his bitten lips as he sank into the mattress and fell away into the welcoming arms of his vices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scenes used (i'm working from the stage-version, but i still took a lot of cues from the movie, and the songs are just important to me haha): first scene between Jaebum and Jinyoung: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urfB-_iX-gE / yugyeom + youngjae's first meeting: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0QfCIQgD94 /


	2. Two

Mark stirred from his slumber quickly, used to having to be alert and ready to face whatever dangers his sleeping spot had in store for him that day, but found himself caught in a pair of warm, strong arms, soft breaths tickling the nape of his neck. Relaxing against Jackson's firm chest, he snuggled deeper into the flat pillow he had balled up beneath his head, breathing deeply in lazy content. It had been a while since he'd been able to rest, been able to laze about without the fear of frostbite or robbery.

Too soon, though, he was drawn from his daydreams by the sound of shuffling feet, running water and shallow coughs, and he relented, lifting Jackson's heavy arm and throwing back the covers to brave the cold of the floorboards against his toes. Rubbing his face groggily, he stumbled into the living room on wobbly, sleep-stiff legs and saw Jinyoung - or what was left of Jinyoung - making coffee with slumped, bony shoulders; t-shirt baggy and loose as it hung from his skeletal form.

Jinyoung noticed him standing there when he turned, and he raised an eyebrow before smiling widely in the way that made his eyes turn to crescents. He was so much thinner than he used to be and his eyes were deeply set and underlined in grey, no longer bright and wild like back then. It hurt Mark deeply to see him this way, to see him succumbing to the disease so easily, so willingly. Mark returned the smile, albeit with a tinge of sadness, walking over to wrap him in a tight hug. He could feel every bone, the dip between Jinyoung's shoulder blades, the ridges of his spine.

Pulling away, Jinyoung grinned widely. 'I didn't know you were here already.'

'I got in last night, I had no money to call. Are you eating, Jinyoung?'

Jinyoung's eyes flitted away, turning from him quickly as he returned to the coffee pot and poured out two mugs slowly. 'I eat enough.'

Mark sighed, fighting to keep the consternation from his voice. 'Are you even taking your meds? You can't just lay back and let it burn you out.'

Jinyoung leaned against the counter, eyes focused on the ground, shoulders tight. 'I'm taking my meds, Mark. Don't mother me when I know you're not looking after yourself either.' Mark rolled his eyes, almost having forgotten Jinyoung's amazing ability to deflect. He'd always been the one suffering while worrying too much about others, pushing attention away from himself to focus on anyone else.

'I haven't exactly been in a position to stay healthy, Jin. I've saved a bit of cash, though, what do you need?'

Jinyoung just shook his head, still not meeting Mark's eyes. 'I have food, I just have no appetite.'

Mark deflated, too tired to fight such a losing battle and deciding to let it go as he walked over to a garishly patterned couch he remembered being an entirely different colour back when he lived here. He bounced as he sat down, and his eyes fell upon the burnt spoon, the rubber tubing. His heart sank, mouth going dry as he slowly shook his head in mute disbelief. Jinyoung approached with the coffee's, but stopped short when he saw where Mark's eyes had landed. 'Mark, please-'

A look of betrayal in his eyes, Mark snapped, regarding Jinyoung with pure disbelief. 'You're still using? After what happened?' Jinyoung just looked sad, worn out. He set the mugs of coffee on the table, throwing himself down beside Mark heavily for someone who was just skin and bones. Clasping his hands between his knees, he looked numbly at the steam rising from the battered ceramic, voice leaving him quietly, weakly.

'I have nothing, Mark. Nothing. Let me have this.'

Mark only scoffed, hurt, and clutched Jinyoung around the shoulders, shaking him until he met his eyes. 'You have me, Jinyoung. I won't let you fuck yourself up again, you nearly died.'

Jinyoung batted his hands away with sudden anger, turning to him with pain in his eyes, and Mark could only wonder how long it had been stagnant within him. 'And where were you? I'm not going to fucking overdose again, I'm not a kid anymore. It's the only thing that takes the pain away; it's not like you stuck around to help me.'  
Mark glanced away as if recoiling from a strike, eyebrows drawn tight and lips set in a hard line. 'I'm sorry, for leaving.' He muttered, the words long overdue, and Jinyoung's anger dissipated as fast as it came, never one to stay angry. He slumped against the backrest, head falling to the side as he looked at Mark softly.

'Where were you?'

'I've been around. Used all that money I was saving to go back to Cali, but my parents didn't want me back.' He picked at a thread in his jeans absently, fighting through the lump in his throat. 'I came back, but I couldn't face you after how we fell out, the things I said. I've been sleeping rough, busking, stealing here and there when I have to.' When he dared to look at Jinyoung, he was met with a gaze full of only love and sympathy.

'I'm sorry, for everything. You never gave me time to say that before. We were friends before anything else happened between us, I wish we never lost that. My world ended when you left, Mark.'

Mark could feel his eyes growing wet, wondering how he ever left Jinyoung here to waste away. 'Sleeping with your best friend really isn't the best idea is it?' He choked, and Jinyoung laughed softly, pulling him into a tight, sharp hug. Jinyoung always gave the best hugs, and he still did, just a little less soft than before.

'I wasn't that bad, was I?' Jinyoung breathed into Mark's hair where he held him to his chest, and Mark could hear his voice breaking.

'If you're trying to get me to tell you how great you were in bed, it aint gonna happen,' Mark snickered, sniffing and squeezing his eyes against the burn of tears, 'You already know that, you smug little shit.' Jinyoung's chest shuddered with quiet laughter, then with repressed sobs.

'You know I still love you, Mark? Not in a gay way, though. I think we can both agree we weren't good at the gay way.' Mark giggled, head still buried in Jinyoung's shirt, and his chest was tight just having his best friend here again, as what he should always have been; not his lover, but his soulmate.

'I love you too, you idiot.'

Of course, Jackson had to walk in at just that moment, voice blurting almost immediately, 'Am I interrupting something?'

-

Jaebum paused at the window, leaning close to the fogged glass and inspecting the words written by a finger.

XMAS BRUNCH  
ME + U?  
JYP <3

He clicked his tongue, and almost jumped when he noticed Youngjae breathing down his neck. 'What's this? Who's JYP?'

'Some crazy guy from downstairs.'

Youngjae raised his eyebrows, 'Oh, the stripper?'

'He's a stripper? How do you know?'

'I actually talk to our neighbours, unlike you.' Youngjae shrugged, returning to where he'd been sat on the sofa flicking through some music he'd written. Jaebum rolled his eyes, grumbling.

'Why would I talk to our neighbours? They're just random people living in the same shitty place.'

Youngjae sighed wistfully, as he often did when Jaebum said something negative. It pissed him off to no end. 'It's called making friends. Friends. Do you know that word? F-R-I-E-N-D-S.'

Jaebum swatted at the back of his head, Youngjae chuckling despite the assault. 'Don't get cheeky.' Jaebum muttered halfheartedly, falling into his armchair lazily with no intention to get back up from it for at least a few hours. At the sound of keys turning in the lock, he looked with mild interest toward the door, surprised to see Jackson entering with that all-encompassing smile and arms weighted with plastic bags.

'Firewood and food bitches, Merry Christmas!'

Jaebum wouldn't admit it, but it was unhealthy just how much he'd missed that voice.

Youngjae immediately jumped up to wrap him in a tight hug, the two laughing away as they wrestled each other side to side in glee. Jaebum grunted a 'hey' from where he was sat, and Jackson let go of Youngjae with a scoff, pulling a grumpy face. ''Hey'' He mimicked, 'Hey? After two years?' He threw his arms open exaggeratedly and Jaebum relented, getting to his feet reluctantly despite the smile tugging at his lips and letting Jackson smother him, thumping his back hard. There was something about Jackson that always dragged a smile from Jaebum, whatever the weather.

'That's the first time I've seen him smile since you left.' Youngjae laughed, and Jaebum threw him a half-hearted glare over Jackson's shoulder. Jackson let go after he'd squeezed Jaebum to his satisfaction, patting him on the shoulder and looking him up and down for a moment. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he just patted Jaebum's shoulder one last time and gave him a tight lipped smile, letting his hand fall away. Jaebum knew the unspoken comment; how thin he was, how ill he looked. Contrary to popular belief, Jackson knew when to keep his mouth shut.

He missed having Jackson around, that annoying laugh and insistent attention seeking - Jackson was the glue that kept Youngjae and Jaebum together; without him there was just a cold draft and awkward silences. Jackson was never scared to invade his personal space, never hesitant to kick him into shape and forgo formalities. Seeing him again made him feel suddenly guilty for how he'd been treating Youngjae, and he glanced at him quickly, seeing the big goofy smile on his face that hadn't been there while it was just the two of them. Jaebum had been a real shitbag lately.

'I meant to get here yesterday but there was this kid getting mugged and I had to step in-'

A scoff sounded from the open door, and Jaebum raised an eyebrow, a voice following soon after. 'It was your ass getting beat.'

'Who's that?' Youngjae asked, perplexed, and Jackson beamed at them both.

'An angel.'

At that, a lanky guy looking utterly mortified stepped into the room, nodding awkwardly to Jaebum and Youngjae and shaking a bag he was carrying. 'Breakfast?'  
It wasn't long before the fire was crackling, warming Jaebum's numb extremities as they sat around catching up with each other. Jackson caught Jaebum's eye while Youngjae and the new guy - Mark - were engrossed in their own conversation, nodding towards the message on the window. Jaebum just shook his head with a small smile, giving Jackson the finger when he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

He found that he liked Mark, his calmness and gentle tone. It was interesting to watch the way Jackson looked at him while he spoke, and how Mark seemed to listen to every word falling from Jackson's lips where others tended to switch off. Something in him began to wonder if he'd ever have that again, ever feel the warmth of another persons gaze. For a moment, Jinyoung prodded at his mind, and his eyes flicked over to the words written into the steamed up window, but he tore his gaze away just as quickly, shaking his head slightly. That kid was too much trouble; he saw too much of his past self in him.

Jaebum wasn't a corpse by any means, not yet anyway; there was definitely a tightness in his jeans after Jinyoung had danced his way out of the window and left him in the dark, much to his own frustration. He knew by his own experience that Jinyoung was on a winding path that would only lead to pain, if he wasn't already at that destination already, and Jaebum knew that if he succumbed to Jinyoung's spell he'd lose himself trying to save him - not only was it unfair to Jaebum, it wasn't fair to Jinyoung.  
Jaebum didn't know how long he had left, it was better to be alone than to drag others into the pain his condition brought. Jinyoung was too young to see the things Jaebum had seen, and if he could protect him from this one thing it would be the only kindness he could offer.

The words 'Life Support' brought him back to the conversation, noticing Youngjae and Jackson's eyes on him when Mark mentioned that anyone was welcome to come along.

'Hyung, you should go.' Youngjae pressed, but Jaebum simply frowned deterrently, sinking further into his armchair. Mark and Jackson stood, pulling on their coats and scarves before Mark turned with a soft smile, leaning in with a quiet voice.

'Some people have nowhere else to go on Christmas Day. It's not as bad as it sounds.' Jaebum just looked at him blankly, surprised by how forthcoming he was, and Mark just left it at that. He didn't understand why people needed to meddle in his life so much, watching the two of them leave and heaving a deep sigh. Youngjae pulled on his coat shortly afterwards, lingering in the doorway with his camera in hand, seeming to agonise over something.

'Hyung, you're not dead yet - stop acting like it.' The sound of the door closing was too loud, too jarring and Jaebum furrowed his brows, rubbing his sore eyes. These fucking kids.

He was glad to be alone, wishing people would stop interfering in his life. When he stood to take his mug back to the kitchen, his eyes were drawn to the poster on the wall, and he stopped before it. It was him when he was still a teen, colour still in his skin and a sultry smile on his lips as he sang into a microphone, fingers caught in motion as they deftly plucked at the strings of guitar. He's covered in sweat, coppery hair glued to his forehead and kohl smudged around his eyes. He must've been just eighteen or nineteen in the photo, back when he was sneaking out of college to play gigs in dirty bars; soaking up the almost religious rapture of the crowd and forgetting himself in the beds of the girls and guys who'd promise him the world for just one night pressed against him. He was the poster boy of a rich pretty boy pretending he was anything but, snubbing off his parents in the name of revolution and liberty.

He could still remember the look on his dads face when he broke the door down, when he found him passed out on the floor with veins full of poison and bile coating his cheeks.

Tearing the poster down, he balled it up and threw it to the floor. He stormed into the kitchen with heavy feet, throwing his mug in the sink and flinching at the sound of it smashing, resting his hands on the countertop and letting his head hang between his shoulders for a moment. He'd been a fool to think his life was back on track, to think feeling nothing was easier than acknowledging the pain he was in. Pulling out the crinkling foil of his tablet packet from his jeans, he popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed it dry, throat bobbing before he walked back into the living room. Looking at the window one more time, he paused, thinking of pouting lips and big brown eyes.

He turned away.

-

'So, you used to fuck?' Jackson asked dumbly, shoes crunching on the crisp snow. Mark rolled his eyes, you really had to have patience with Jackson, and thank God Mark had plenty to spare.

'We went to highschool together, shared that apartment, screwed around a bit and things got confusing and fucked up so I left. We never really had feelings for each other beyond friendship, I guess we were just lonely.' Jackson hummed thoughtfully, looking up at the pale blue sky while they stopped at a crossing before he fixed his deep brown gaze on Mark again, making his heart jump slightly.

'So I still have a chance?' Mark scoffed, punching him in the arm slightly. 'You're cute when you're embarrassed.' Jackson teased, and Marks face heated when his digits suddenly intertwined with his own. Jackson had warm hands. 'What's this meeting about, anyway? Do you learn CPR here or something?'

Mark laughed incredulously, losing the fight against not smiling, 'No, you ass. Life Support is just a small gathering where people with AIDs can talk to each other. Your housemate didn't seem to like the idea.'

Jackson sighed heartily, face clouding, pensive. 'Yeah, he's a losing battle. Jaebum would rather pretend he's already dead than try and squeeze out whatever life has left for him. I love him, but he's an ass.'

Mark raised an eyebrow, 'He has AIDs?'

Jackson nodded thoughtfully, 'He wasn't that bad when I lived there, I guess I just bring out the best in people.' He said it jokingly, but Mark found himself agreeing. Jackson was like a ball of sunshine, from the little of him that he'd seen, anyway - but there was something sad about him, too, as if he was constantly reaching for the good rather than letting himself feel the bad. He squeezed Jackson's hand, not saying a word when the shorter man looked at him questioningly; simply pulling him across the street with a soft smile on his face and a warmth in his chest.

-

The meeting was already underway when they arrived, and they slipped into the circle as quietly as possible, muttering soft apologies. There were only seven of them, including the group leader who resumed what he was already talking about before looking around the circle with a smile. 'There's a few new faces today, so lets all introduce ourselves. I'm Jin, I've been living with AID's for seven years now.' He had a kind face, and Jackson thought he didn't look ill at all, fresh faced and vibrant. The man next to him cleared his throat, and people introduced themselves in turn. 'Kibum' 'Min' 'Taehyung' 'Krystal'

Mark ran his tongue over his lips, cleared his throat. 'Mark, I've been living with AID's for three years.' Jackson squeezed his knee softly, and warmed at the smile Mark gave in return.

'Jackson Wang. I've been living - not dying of AID's for five years.' A soft chuckle went around the room at his wit, but he could only hear Mark's soft giggle, a sound that made his heart feel full and heavy. People began to tell their stories, and Jackson was comforted by the acceptance in the room, the lack of judgement. He could almost sense Mark tensing as his turn came closer, and he patted his thigh softly, sending him a reassuring smile. Mark was truly, truly adorable. His voice cracked slightly when he first attempted to speak, and Jackson leaned forward slightly, urging him to focus on him and forget anyone else in the room. It seemed to work, those brown eyes sticking to Jackson's like glue, the tension slowly easing from his shoulders and the words falling from his lips without a stutter.

'I was Seventeen, thought condoms were just for straight people, y'know? It's amazing how such a stupid thing can affect everything. I was sleeping with my best friend at the time - he'd been injecting behind my back, I didn't find out until I walked in and found him nearly dead. He didn't know he was positive until the doctor told us, but I walked out on him in the heat of the moment. Parents didn't want me back, of course, and I've been on the streets doing what I can since. Turns out the meds are fucking expensive so, yeah, I missed a lot of my treatment. I'm too scared to see a doctor, to see just how far its developed. Sometimes I think it's better to just not know, to just live life in the moment and let whatever happens happen.' He laughed awkwardly, knitting his eyebrows together. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to be depressing.'

The whole group chuckled at that, and Jackson couldn't help but wrap an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his arm comfortingly. Jackson couldn't fathom how such a bad thing could happen to such a beautiful person, and he made up his mind to get him healthy again; if that wasn't possible, if he really was getting worse, then he'd fill every moment with light and joy and never let him frown or cry again.

'Jackson?'

'Yeah, um. I uh, I was on the national fencing team-' The doors opened, a cold wind blowing in, and Jackson turned to see Youngjae looking flustered as he fought to close them against the blizzard outside. He managed to slam them shut, red faced as he turned to the rapt attention of the group and smiled brightly.

'Sorry! I uh- is it okay if I, uh - I don't have AID- God, sorry um-' He took a deep breath, obviously embarrassed, and Jackson resisted the urge to laugh at him, instead patiently waiting for his friend to collect himself. 'Is it okay if I just watch? I also, um, I have a camera so - if everyone's okay with it - can I record some of this? Shit, that sounds so bad; I'm working on a play and-'

A chuckle sounded in the silence, and Youngjae looked up from where his eyes had settled on the ground, Jackson turning toward the voice too to see Jin smiling brightly, sympathetically as he gestured toward a spare seat. 'Come and sit - is everyone okay with that?' A few people looked unsure, but everybody nodded.

'Thank you! Again, sorry for interrupting.' Youngjae blabbered, clumsily taking his coat off and scraping the chair noisily as he sat down. He dropped his camera with a thunk and scrambled to pick it up, turning pinker by the second. Jackson laughed heartily, then, and savoured the half-hearted glare Youngjae sent him.  
'Jackson, if you'd like the continue.'

'Sure. I was on the fencing team-' Youngjae had his camera out, then, pointing it directly at Jackson, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel under pressure - but Jackson was never one to shy away from attention, focusing on Mark's warmth by his side, his intense gaze boring into him as if he wanted to hear this more than anything.

'-I was going places, I guess. The guys would go out on weekends, do all kinds of drugs - just the light stuff though, speed, ecstasy - party stuff. I was impressionable, wanted to fit in and look tough. I didn't know to stop at the recreational shit - started going out too much, making friends with the other kids, got close with the dealers. Before I knew it I was always too tired to train, too tired to go to school; I needed more, couldn't function without it. The light stuff wasn't doing it for me any more, the high was never as high as before, so I found a few kids selling the harder stuff and I'd crash at their places. You don't realise how dirty a crack den is when you're high, you don't care who's used the needle as long as you're getting what you need.' He sighed, throat tight, but he swallowed through the dryness, trying to ignore the pity in Youngjae's eyes - he'd never told him anything, and he felt guilty for keeping it from him.

'My parents found out I was ditching school, they were so disgusted when they found out. The worst part was there was no animosity between us before, but suddenly all they held for me was rejection and hatred, like I wasn't their son anymore. They practically dragged me to rehab, dumped me there without looking back - I have to thank them for that, though, it got me clean. I found one of my best friends there, Jaebum; we both snuck out of there together, stayed clean and watched each others backs. He's like a big brother to me, made sure I was taking my AZT regularly, made me get a job, kicked my ass if I started sulking.' He smiled softly, remembering all the fights they'd had, all the awkward heart-to-hearts. He'd lost himself somewhere along in his speech, and he focused on the group again laughing awkwardly. 'Sorry, I talk alot'

'That's no problem, I'm sure at least one person in here is glad to have someone they can relate to. We're here to talk.' Jin reassured with a soft voice, crossing his legs. The group moved on to talk about how they were in that moment, a few people tearing up as they told of how their T-cells were low, of how they were scared to commit to someone in fear of a premature death, or that they were too terrified to reach out to someone incase they were disgusted by them.

Jackson couldn't help but pull Mark closer to him, and the younger man looked at him questioningly, noses brushing slightly. A fear had risen in him, anxiety buzzing through him at the idea of this gift slipping through his fingers before he'd even had time to unwrap it.

'Don't you dare die on me, Mark.'

_Will I lose my dignity_  
_Will someone care_  
_Will I wake tomorrow_  
_From this nightmare_

-

Snow was falling in thick clumps, and Jinyoung leaned out over the balcony, tongue out to catch the flakes. After seeing Mark again, he felt some kind of spark of life running through him, keeping him buzzed. Too buzzed. He'd been anxious all day after Mark and Jackson had left, and he was thankful he had some pot left over to take him down a notch. Having Mark around again, just looking at his magic box had him feeling ashamed, guilt bubbling up and consuming him. It hadn't felt real, the fact that he was gone, for so long.

He remembered as clear as if it was yesterday; lying in that hospital bed, wired up and groggy, disapproving looks being thrown by every nurse that thought he was sinful and dirty, and the pain in Mark's eyes as he sat there holding his limp hand. He'd never forget his face when they'd told them he was positive, how betrayed Mark had looked even while Jinyoung was reeling from the news himself. He'd never seen Mark get angry, and it was frightening; he'd screamed, yelled, cried, thrown insult after insult while Jinyoung sobbed through the haze that still hung over him, not understanding any of it, the reality of it not sinking in until Mark was long gone and Jinyoung was alone.

They'd been like glue since highschool, Mark in the year above him - he remembered the first time they'd talked, the realisation that Jinyoung wasn't the only weirdo out there, that there were others like him too. Mark was quiet, a listener, similar to Jinyoung in many ways except for his positivity where Jinyoung was always thinking the negative. They balanced each other out, and Mark had taken Jinyoung in after he'd brazenly confessed his sexuality to his parents and regretted it immediately afterwards. There was something heart wrenchingly unnerving about seeing your parents look at you like that; where all they'd shown you before was love and acceptance there was only fear, disgust, horror. It was like looking at strangers and realising you never knew them at all, that they never knew you either.

In truth, this was Mark's apartment, but he'd never come back no matter how long Jinyoung had waited, and he had nowhere else to go. The snow was soaking his sweater and turning his fingers pink, but the cold was clearing his mind, a moment of peace in the chaos inside him. He'd known Mark was coming back a few weeks ago, how his hands had shook when he heard that voice at the end of the line; now he wished he'd cleaned the place, hidden his shame from view and saved Mark the heartache of seeing him as such a wreck. Then again, Jinyoung had lied to him for so long, it was only fair he let Mark see the ugly truth this time, see him for who he was, who he'd become.

He'd waited around all day for Jaebum, clinging to the weak hope he might actually come down, but it was worthless. He could hear him again, plucking somber notes and singing softly with honey tones and muffled words. Jinyoung was no nun, he got around, but it was all numb satisfaction, as simple as taking a hit; Jaebum stirred something else inside him, a curiosity he'd never showed for anyone but Mark - and even then it was deeper, more rough and achey, a need he had to sate. He wanted to lie next to him while those long fingers strummed and his throat bobbed with soft lullabies, and he wanted to tangle his fingers into that coppery hair and watch him come undone, hear him whisper his name like a prayer as he ruined him.

He hesitated this time before he mounted the steps, snow muffling his feet as his breath clouded the air, and he pressed his palms to the cool glass, peering in to see the glow of a fire lighting up Jaebum in a silhouette, guitar perched on his knee as he hunched over it in concentration. Jinyoung was still lazy from his high, but his heart was pounding anyway, thudding in his ears as he tapped the glass gently and saw that beautiful face turn towards him, at first in surprise, then annoyance. Jinyoung would be lying if he said it didn't hurt.

Jaebum stood, casting his guitar away on the sofa before he came to the window, opening it roughly and staring down at Jinyoung with palpable impatience. 'I have a front door, you know. Go back to bed, little boy, there's nothing for you here.' He sounded tired, worn out, but Jinyoung was tired of waiting around for his life to change - he was going to fight for this small slice of happiness, even if it was the last thing he did.

Jinyoung scowled, forcing the window back open as Jaebum tried to close it and stepping inside - incidentally pressing himself against the taller man in the act. 'Do you have to be so cold?' He asked beseechingly, gazing up at that marble face, hand reaching to touch it. 'Life is short, Jaebum, what's there to lose?'

Jaebum caught his wrist roughly, pulling him inside and slamming the window shut. He span Jinyoung around to face him, still holding his wrist in an iron grip, hard enough to bruise, and Jinyoung flinched, trying fruitlessly to wrestle it from him. 'Wise words from a smack addict, I'll make a note of them.' He let go abruptly, and Jinyoung recoiled from him, nursing the soreness Jaebum had left behind.

'What's your problem?' He asked softly, stung by the venom in Jaebum's voice, but not rising to his anger, simply wanting to understand what was wrong with him, why he didn't want him. 'What's so wrong with me?'

'Another time, another place. It looks like you've fucked your life up enough, kid, don't add me to your list of mistakes.' He growled, taking Jinyoung roughly by the shoulders and steering him towards the door. Jinyoung tried to resist, but Jaebum was strong - and for a reason Jinyoung still couldn't place, he was really angry.

'Give me a fucking chance!' Jinyoung fought weakly, but Jaebum kept a firm grip on his shoulders, shoving open the door. Jinyoung gripped the frame tightly, planting his feet as he adjusted his body weight and slipped free of Jaebum's hold, turning to face him defiantly. Jaebum's eyes had left him, though, focused on something behind Jinyoung, though he still looked as pissed as before. Jinyoung didn't bother to turn his head and follow Jaebum's gaze, determined to have him acknowledge him.

'I don't know what's happened to you to make you so uptight, but God at least hear me out. If not as anything else, at least a friend, you look like you need one. I know I do.' His words were soft, but Jaebum just closed his eyes tightly for a moment, fists balling before he span on his heel and snatched his coat off the sofa, storming past Jinyoung again - who turned to see Mark and Jackson, and another guy he recognised, standing there, looking completely baffled - and pushing the others aside before booking it down the stairs with heavy feet.

'Mark?' Jinyoung didn't expect his voice to catch, but he was wrapped in the taller boys arms before the tears could fall, burying his head in his snow-covered shoulder. He could hear Jackson saying something, the other guy chattering back, but all he cared about in that moment was Mark's arms around him and how much he wished he could be loved again.

 _The heart may freeze or it can burn_  
_The pain will ease if I can learn_  
_There is no future_  
_There is no past_  
_I live this moment as my last_  
_There's only us_  
_There's only this_  
_Forget regret_  
_Or life is yours to miss_  
  
-

Youngjae watched Jinyoung shivering in Mark's arms and gripped his camera tighter, wondering if recording the Life Support meeting had been a good idea at all, if he'd fractured the dignity of the people there divesting their most painful thoughts and feelings. He'd asked Jackson and Mark on the way back, head full of worries and guilt, but Mark had smiled a radiant smile and assured him that for some, it would be the only thing left to remember them by, that he was glad to have some shred of himself kept safe in Youngjae's art. Jackson was right, Mark was an angel.

Youngjae had seen Jinyoung around a few times, spoken to him once or twice briefly when they'd passed eachother on the stairs. He knew the kid stripped at the club a few blocks away, though he wouldn't admit how he came to gather that piece of knowledge. He could only look on in pity at his trembling shoulders as he buried his face in Mark's shirt, wondering where he got the bad luck to fall for Jaebum of all people. If there was anyone in this would who needed a bit of love, it was Jaebum, but by God the guy would never take it - Jinyoung would have to find out the hard way.

Mark looked up, rubbing slow circles into Jinyoung's back as he winked at Youngjae and caught Jackson eye, and Youngjae quickly understood his gist. Jackson was a bit slower to catch on, and Youngjae stood, guiding him by the shoulder to take him into the kitchen and give the other two some space.

'What's up?' he asked dumbly, and Youngjae just set to making some coffee, a quick sandwich for the emaciated thing crying on Mark's lap, making even Mark look healthy.

'They need some space. So, you and Mark, huh?' Glancing up he saw Jackson grow embarrassed, which was rare, shuffling awkwardly as a small smile tugged at his lips.

'I guess my luck hasn't run out yet.'

'Bambam's protest is tomorrow; you should ask Mark to come along, maybe even Jinyoung if he's up for it. I'm sure it'll be... unforgettable.'

Jackson chuckled softly, and he didn't need to look to imagine the knowing look on his face. 'Still his lapdog, huh? I love the kid but he plays you so easily.'

'There's no hard feelings between us, I don't see why I can't help him out and be his friend still.'

'You're so whipped, Youngjae.' Jackson patted him on the back heartily and Youngjae rolled his eyes with a smile, laughing at the whipping sounds Jackson was making.

'Are you coming or what?' He asked as he turned to lean on the counter, and Jackson grinned, shaking his head softly.

'I wouldn't miss this trainwreck for the world.'

-

Mark had held Jinyoung a thousand times while he cried, had wiped his tears away late at night when the world got too much for him, and knew every comforting word there was, but it still left him bereft to know there was nothing he could do to take the pain away. At the very least he could take comfort in the fact that he was here for him now, that Jinyoung wouldnt be sobbing into his pillow alone in the dead of night, that Mark wasn't another layer to his loneliness anymore.

That was the thing with Jinyoung, he locked himself inside his own head, answering his own questions and imagining the worst of every situation before it could play out naturally - though, the Jinyoung he'd seen tonight had been different; Jinyoung had never been the type to flirt, to approach someone. How lonely had he become without Mark? How much did he want this Jaebum guy? The latter thought brought a stale feeling of jealousy, but he shook it off, splashing water into his face and blinking at himself in the mirror.

He'd held Jinyoung until he fell asleep in his arms on the sofa, barely needing Jackson's help to carry his weightless form downstairs to his apartment and tuck him into bed - the bed they used to share. The red paint hadn't been peeling off back then, there was no mould climbing up the walls and Jinyoung's art had been everywhere. That was the biggest tragedy, he thought, that Jinyoung wasn't painting any more. He used to study the arts - from drama to etching - and gifted wasn't enough to describe him; Mark had loved watching him in the sunlight, perched at the end of the bed as he sketched him sleeping, the way he'd frown when he noticed Mark was awake and complain he'd ruined his drawing.

A far cry from the vulnerable child lying in pieces on his dirty bedsheets in the next room, tracks dotting his arms and tears still wet on his sore cheeks. Love could be a bitch, whether it was romantic or platonic, and Jinyoung deserved more than what this Jaebum guy was giving. It was odd; he'd seemed moody, sure, that morning when Mark had first met him - but there was kindness in his eyes beneath the hostility and awkwardness. Mark could see through people, he always had, and there was something about Jaebum that told him he was scared of something, as if a smile or a kind word would break him. It was strange that people like that could hurt somebody just as delicate as themselves.

Mark rolled his shoulders and stretched softly, yawning as he left the bathroom. He walked to the spare bedroom, but hesitated at the door, feet carrying him to where Jinyoung slept instead, and he watched him sleep for a while, the slow rise and fall of his chest and the way the moonlight made him look younger, breakable and bruisable. He walked over quietly, pulling the blankets up and sneaking under like a ghost, tugging Jinyoung's featherweight body close to his own and making a promise through whispered words against the nape of his neck.

For as long as Mark was alive, Jinyoung wouldn't cry anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life Support meeting: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z28yAI2okuM / Jinyoung stripping from the last chapter, second meeting with Jaebum: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XQfKbGBjorE


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an: i can't stop making 'coming inside' jokes im a child. also, there's a lot of foreshadowing in this so read it with beady eyes!

\- Three - 

 

Jinyoung woke in a cold sweat, skin clammy and sheets clinging to his damp flesh. The sun wasn't up yet, the room still cast in darkness as Mark slept soundly beside him. As he lay there, the room spinning and the bed swallowing him whenever he closed his eyes, he couldn't remember getting into bed, or even into his apartment. His eyes were sore from crying and he was breathless, dizzy.

How had Mark ended up in his bed? Slipping out of the bed quietly, he shuffled around the room on weak legs in an attempt not to wake his sleeping friend, throwing on a robe and some slippers and padding out into the frigid living room. His slippers scuffed the worn laminate as he walked into the kitchen and made some coffee, teeth chattering and hands shaking.  Lifting the mug to his lips, his hand trembled wildly, liquid spilling over the rim and scalding his hand suddenly.

'Fuck!' He hissed, flinching as the mug slipped from his fingers and crashed into the sink, flying to pieces. 'Shit.' He breathed, laying his palms on the counter and letting his head hang between his shoulders as he took shaky breaths, his world spinning as he tried to center himself. The coffee was a lost cause, and he waded through the fog of his mind before finally dropping down onto his couch, pressing his head into the crook of the arm and pulling his knees to his chest. His forehead was damp and his mouth was dry, tongue too heavy and thick in his mouth. He'd experienced this before, last time he'd tried to quit, but this didn't feel like withdrawal; it hadn't been long enough for it to be withdrawal. He thought dimly that he should eat, but he was too tired, too weak.

Licking his chapped lips, he hugged himself tightly, eyes burning every time he blinked. As he stared at the pattern on the arm rest, he thought of Mark, how happy he looked talking to Jackson. He was happy for him, truly, and it shocked him, the lack of jealousy or resentment he felt. He'd always have a place in Mark's heart, he knew that; having Jackson around was a comfort, a blockade to stop Mark and Jinyoung from making the same mistake they'd made before.

Mark deserved someone like Jackson - from what Jinyoung had seen of the guy - kind, upbeat, attentive. Jinyoung didn't want to drag Mark down again, to pull him into his own misery. He was scared to tell him how ill he felt; how the cold meant nothing to him because he was always cold no matter what, how sometimes it was exactly the opposite and it felt like there was fire in his veins burning him from the inside out.

He glanced toward the door at the sound of heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs and a deep, chesty cough echoing in the stairwell. The footsteps hesitated outside his door before ascending once again and fading, the sound of a closing door before the world was plunged into thick silence again. His chest tightened, knowing it was Jaebum, remembering his hand on his wrist as he traced his fingers over where his grip had burned him.

Picking apart the scene in his mind, he thought of how strained Jaebum had seemed, the regret in his eyes after he'd let Jinyoung's wrist go, how false his words sounded. Jaebum was hiding something, protecting himself from prying eyes and penetrating questions - Jinyoung knew, he was the master of it. He wondered just how destructive he'd become now, to be feeling a thrill at how strong Jaebum had been, to be thinking of how it would feel to be beneath his weight; strong muscles rippling above him and that stern, chiseled face torn apart in ecstasy.

It had been so long since he'd felt self-conscious, never facing rejection so bluntly even when he was frank about his disease. His thoughts kept lingering over how he must look, how haggard and pale he is, how fragile he'd feel beneath Jaebum's large hands. Being trapped inside his own bubble for so long, it was disorientating to be thrown into the real world again, knowing how much it was hurting Mark to see him this way. He curled in tighter on himself, pain in his chest and a sinking feeling in his stomach as tears stung his eyes. How could Jaebum want to kiss his cracked lips, want to run his hands over his sharp, jutting hips? He was sickening to look upon, diseased and addicted to poison; who was he to dream of love and affection anymore?

The tears started and didn't end, and he must have cried himself to sleep, because the next thing he knew there was light stinging his eyes and an ache in his neck, a confident knock on his door drawing him from his dreamless slumber. Getting to his feet, dizziness tried to pull him back down, but he fought through it and opened the door blearily to see Jackson's beaming face. The smile fell immediately, but to Jackson's credit he still attempted cheerfulness, his face barely showing his worry - but Jinyoung saw it anyway before his vision clouded again and strong arms were wrapped around him.

'Jinyoung, hey, you okay? Where's Mark?' Jinyoung found his feet again, but couldn't find the strength to shrug Jackson off, letting him guide him back to the sofa. 'Wait here, I'll get him.' He turned, but Jinyoung threw a heavy arm out from where he was slumped and caught Jackson desperately, eyes barely open as he shook his head no.

His voice startled him, rough and broken, 'Don't let him see me like this, please. I'll be fine.'

Jackson didn't look convinced, frowning down at him but making no moves to grab Mark. Instead he crashed down beside him, sofa creaking wearily at the additional weight. Jinyoung couldn't help but admire how comfortable Jackson looked, where anyone else would look incredibly awkward sat next to their love interests smack addict ex-boyfriend.

'Have you eaten, Jinyoung? I can make a mean ham sandwhich; bread, ham, all of that shit. I'm basically a chef.' He grinned eagerly, and Jinyoung chuckled, nodding even though he had no appetite. It was hard to say no to that face - he had kind eyes, eyes that made you feel worth something. Jackson smiled brightly, jumping up to rattle around in his kitchenette. 'Sorry about Jaebum, kid,' He chattered as he rummaged through his cupboards. 'He's in a bad place, hasn't been around people for a while. Actually, he's always been like that, but he's a good guy under the grumpiness. I can kick his ass for you if you want, though.'

Jinyoung smiled softly at Jackson's back, shifting to sit up as he ran a hand over his face as if it would clear the fog in his mind. 'It's okay, I get it. I know what it's like to want to be alone.'

'You don't really, though, do you?'

'Huh?'

Jackson turned with a knowing look on his face, a suspicious looking sandwich in his hand that didn't do anything to spur Jinyoung's appetite, but he took it anyway, watching questioningly as Jackson joined him on the sofa once again.

'You didn't really want to be alone, I mean, you probably needed to be alone for a little while but then you just got used to it, thought there wasn't a way for you to stop being lonely so it was easier to just push people away even though all you wanted was someone to push back. Jaebum's just... I've known him a little while. We were in rehab when he found out he had AIDs and it just - it changed him. It's not your fault.'

Jinyoung actually found himself having to catch his breath, staring blankly back at Jackson as he pieced his words together. Jaebum had AIDs. Things were making sense. Jinyoung knew what that news did to you, how quickly you cut people off and decide being alone is easier than making them watch you die. 'I had no idea.'

Jackson snickered quietly, a low rumble before raising an eyebrow. 'He doesn't exactly let you get close enough to ask.'

Jinyoung nibbled at the sandwich Jackson had made him, trying not to let hope spark in his chest, but it was already catching fire and heating him thoroughly, all the way to his toes. Jackson was watching him without even trying to pretend he wasn't, and Jinyoung regarded him curiously. 'Something on my face?'

'Actually I was thinking about what's missing. I know a clinic, Jinyoung, it's free. Just say the words.'

Jinyoung looked at Jackson for a long moment, but his eyes fell to his food once again as he ate feebly, willing his hands not to shake. 'I don't need a clinic, I just need to rest.'

Jackson nodded slowly, and Jinyoung almost jumped at the touch of his warm hand on his back, shocked at being suddenly pressed to a broad chest as he held his sandwich aloft to protect it from being crushed. 'Mark needs you, you know. And honestly, I think Jaebum needs you too. And I think you're kinda cool, so stick around for a while, alright?' Jackson pulled away and ruffled Jinyoung's hair affectionately, and Jinyoung rolled his eyes, ignoring the tightness in his throat.

'You two look cosy.' A throaty voice rumbled, and the two of them looked to see Mark walking in sleepily. Jackson immediately perked up, the mood shifting at his will as he jumped to his feet and pulled Mark in for a quick peck on the lips and leaving Mark a bit stunned and bewildered; blinking back at Jackson as the older man started to chatter. Jinyoung had a sneaking suspicion it was to distract Mark from Jinyoung's dishevelment, and he couldn't help but feel warmed by how much of a gem this guy seemed to be. Jinyoung never thought he'd be so happy to see someone else kissing Mark.

'I'm taking you on a date tonight, and I'm taking you for breakfast right now. Get dressed.' Mark looked perplexed, and furrowed his brows.

'Date? Breakfast? How are you so awake, It's like 8am?'

'Life is short, Markie-pooh, gotta make the most of the hours.'

Mark scrunched his face up before he waddled back to his bedroom sleepily, muttering. 'Markie-pooh? Really?'

When Jackson turned back to Jinyoung, he couldn't supress his snort.

'What?'

'Markie-pooh? Where'd that come from?'

'It's Mark and Winnie the Pooh.'

'Yeah, I grasped that.' Jinyoung chuckled incredulously at Jackson's lack of embarrassment. It was hard to be glum around Jackson, it seemed, because Jinyoung's spirits had climbed a lot higher since his entrance.

'Anyway, that date I talked about, you're welcome to come - Youngjae from upstairs will be there. It's this protest thing, my friend Bambam is into all this performance art stuff and it'll be a mess, but it'll be an experience.'

Jinyoung shrugged, nodded his head slightly. 'I'll try and make it.'

Jackson smirked, winking, 'I'll try and convince Jaebum to come.' Jinyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes. He'd only eaten half of the sandwich, but he was full, pushing himself to his feet to wash himself up and get his head straight. He sighed as he passed Jackson, pausing in front of him.

'Jackson.'

'Yes, Jinyoungie?' Jinyoung closed his eyes for a second at the nickname, letting the smile tugging at his lips spread to sit comfortably.

'Thank you.'

'Huh? For what?'

Jinyoung shook his head, continuing on his way to the bathroom. 'Being you. I think we all need it.'

-

Mark pressed his teeth together as the cold wind blew through his clothes, Jackson closing the door behind them as they stepped into the snow. When Mark shoved his hands in his pockets, Jackson didn't hesitate to link his arm, grinning down at him cheekily when Mark looked up at him in surprise. 'Alone at last.'

Mark laughed as they walked, Jackson solid beside him and warm, chatting nonsense all the way to the small café at the end of the street. Mark was never good at ignoring the looks people would give him and Jinyoung, always withering beneath their gazes, but Jackson caught onto his discomfort immediately, flashing him a big smile and sqeezing his hand before he sat at a table near the window, fogged from the heat inside. 'Order anything you want, I'll pay.'

Mark raised an eyebrow challengingly as a smirk spread over his lips, 'You'll regret saying that.'

Jackson's face was one of pure disbelief as Mark listed off his order to the tired looking waitress, and as she walked away he whistled softly in astonishment. 'Big appetite for such a skinny guy.'

'I haven't had anyone treat me for a while, and even before I was homeless I just never put on weight.' Mark shrugged.

'You're full of surprises, I like it. Exciting.' Jackson leaned his head on his palm, eyes tracing over Mark's face slowly with a lazy smile, making Mark's insides twist in all the right ways.

'What about you? Surprise me.' Mark giggled coyly, warming his hands on his coffee as his knee nudged Jackson's slightly under the table.

'Hm, like this?' Jackson asked, leaning across the table and taking Mark's chin in his hand, pressing their lips together firmly. His lips were soft and full, warm against Mark's own chapped ones, and it was over before it started, Jackson leaning back with a smirk and a twinkle in his eyes. Mark's cheeks were on fire, and it was embarrassing how hard it was to tear his eyes away from Jackson's lips.

Jackson traced his fingers over Mark's jaw thoughtfully before he pulled away completely, eyes scanning for a reaction. Mark just leaned on his elbows, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. 'Are we a thing?' He asked tentatively, hopefully.

'We're everything.' Jackson winked, 'If you wanna be. I wanna be.'

If Mark could have Jackson look at him the way he was looking at him then forever, he'd die happy. His eyes had a way of swallowing you whole, devouring you, as if Jackson couldn't see anything else and the world had shrunk to just the two of them. Mark didn't hear the grunts of disgust at their public display of affection, didn't notice the averted eyes or blatant stares; all he could see was Jackson looking at him as if he was his favourite piece of art, and found himself looking back much the same.

'I think you should kiss me again.' He breathed, eyes flickering between Jackson's dark eyes and full lips, and Jackson did just that, slow and sweet and heady, and when their food arrived, Mark found his appetite was already sated.

-

The place was packed, people funnelling in like ants on sugar, which was surprising because honestly Jaebum didn't get the whole thing Bambam tended to go for. It was all shock factor and loud noises, sheer nonsense. He pulled his scarf higher over his nose, shuffling along as Youngjae talked his ear off about Bambam's new boyfriend, Yugyeom or something, humming his agreement whenever he felt he needed to.

It had been a while since he'd been outside - Christmas was his hibernation period, and he was slightly resentful to have it interrupted so rudely by Jackson's persistent pursuasion. He didn't want to admit how much the possibility of bumping into Jinyoung had swayed him, but he felt horribly guilty for the way he'd acted last night. Jinyoung didn't deserve that, he'd just caught him at the wrong time.

His father had called him to wish him a Merry Christmas, reminded him of how much of a waste he was, of how happy their lives were without him - not in so many words, but that's what Jaebum had heard through his veiled sentiment. He'd walked halfway out of town last night, nose numb and toes forgotten as his mind churned away. He couldn't push Jinyoung from his mind, and in the end he'd given up - if Jinyoung wanted this, Jaebum wouldn't fight it anymore. He was tired of fighting, tired of hiding and hurting and hating. It was about time he got some love, in Jackson's words, and he just wanted Youngjae to stop looking at him like a kicked puppy.

People were pushing and shoving and Jaebum's face hurt from scowling; clutching his wallet and watching every person that moved too close to him. Where he'd once loved crowds, now he could really fucking do without ever being in one. As he glared around at the sea of faces illuminated by the powerful stage lighting, barely hearing Youngjae's monologue over the echoing voices bouncing off the walls of the warehouse, his eyes caught a familiar face lit up in laughter - natural, not forced or faked as Jaebum had seen it before.

'There he is,' Jaebum heard himself utter outloud unintentionally, and Youngjae seemed surprised, pausing in his one-sided conversation for a moment and looking around.

'Bambam?'

'No, Jinyoung.'

'Oh, yeah, I can see Jackson and Mark there too, lets push through.'

They nudged through the crowd, and Jaebum's heart picked up speed the closer they got. Jinyoung looked different when he wasn't submerged in shadow or backlit by moonlight, eyes bright and lips blushing as they formed quick words and tugged into wide smiles at whatever Mark was saying. Youngjae clapped Jackson on the shoulder when they finally reached them, and Jinyoung's eyes immediately found Jaebum, stunning him for a moment. Jinyoung smiled tentatively, and Jaebum had never felt like such an asshole - and he felt like an asshole a lot, so it was a pretty intense feeling.

'Hey.' He said weakly, feeling like an idiot.

'Hey.'

'I'm sorry.' He tried, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, but Jinyoung frowned, leaning closer.

'What? I can't hear you.'

'I'm sorry, Jinyoung' Jaebum raised his voice slightly, leaning into Jinyoung and watching those eyes watching him. 'I'm sorry, for blowing up at you like that. I'm sorry for grabbing you.' The words were leaving him in a rush, desperate to have Jinyoung hear them.

Jinyoung lowered his eyes, tone soft. 'It's ok, I should've left you alone.'

Jaebum shook his head furtively, though Jinyoung didn't see it, eyelashes fanning out over his pale cheeks, thick and dark from the angle, the light casting shadows and catching his features beautifully.

'I don't want to be alone anymore. Let me make it up to you.' Jinyoung met his eyes again, looking uncertain, but then he smirked softly, sincere rather than the sultry cat smile he'd worn before.

'How?' He asked flirtily, body swaying a little closer to Jaebum.

'How about I buy you a drink? You're coming out for food with us after this, right?'

'If you're there, I'll be there.' Jinyoung smiled up at him, and Jaebum couldn't help but return it  - a little stiffly, but it was a smile nonetheless. He'd been off his game for too long, nervous and creaky at the prospect of flirting, and he was thankful Jinyoung seemed to be ignoring his rigidity. He was also thankful the others were too wrapped up in conversation to watch and mock him - or at least he'd thought.

Mark said something to Jinyoung, and he returned to the conversation, still standing close to Jaebum, their fingertips knocking against eachother, and Jaebum died a little inside when he caught the sly wink Jackson threw him when their eyes met. 'Fuck you.' He mouthed back, and Jackson just grinned a toothy grin, wrapping an arm around Mark's waist.

'Who's this Bambam guy, anyway.' Jinyoung asked, and Jaebum and Jackson smirked in unison.

'Youngjae's ex.' Jaebum supplied, and Youngjae raised an eyebrow, knowing he was now a target for some teasing, as he always was when Bambam's name was mentioned.

'I'm over him.'

'Keep telling yourself that, kid.' Jackson chuckled, and Youngjae rolled his eyes, smiling anyway. The lights went out in the warehouse then, sending up sounds of confusion, before a spotlight shone on the stage and Bambam's voice echoed around suddenly. Jaebum rolled his eyes, used to the theatrics. Bambam had stayed at his place plenty of times when he and Youngjae were still a thing... and Youngjae would probably cry if he knew how much weird shit Jaebum had heard coming from that bedroom. Either Youngjae was into some crazy, kinky shit or he was just humouring this kid, because it sounded wild. Bambam was wild, and annoying as shit.

Honestly, Jaebum had been beyond happy when the two of them had broken up; he was sick of listening to his pretentious art-school nonsense and naive ideologies, the verbal diarrhea of a rich little boy trying to live with the common folk, smearing some dirt on his face and considering himself part of a downtrodden society. Jaebum was a rich kid, yeah, but at least he knew what he was rebelling against, and he had the scars to prove it.

Youngjae had his camcorder out, and eventually Bambam appeared, after a long monologue Jaebum hadn't listened to at all, too focused on how close Jinyoung was, how he looked when he was concentrating. He came down from the ceiling wearing some god awful headache inducing outfit, sitting on an awfully rendered crescent moon made of wire and paper maché or some shit. Jaebum switched off immediately, rolling his eyes so far back he almost gave himself a concussion. The crowd seemed to be enjoying it, though, laughing and shouting, and Jinyoung was engrossed, mouth slightly ajar and eyes twinkling.

He didn't see Jinyoung's face when he entwined their cold fingers and clasped his hand tightly, having fixed his eyes on the stage as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

-

Youngjae didn't hear the crowd becoming unruly, only barely noticing how he was being jostled more than before, how his camera was shaking all over the place and he couldn't get a good focus on Bambam no matter how hard he tried. Bambam was a force of nature, screaming for revolution and change and the crowd was screaming back - it was only when he ducked beneath a thrown glass bottle, hitting the floor and crashing to pieces that Youngjae knew something was wrong.

The crowd became a whirlpool and he was thrown into the depths, losing his friends in seconds as he fought to stay on his feet, camera catching the havoc as people shouted and screamed, punches being thrown and police sirens blaring in his ears. When he looked to the stage, Bambam was gone, and his heart was thudding in his chest. 

Even as he fell to the floor, just one thought was on his mind - just keep filming.

-

'Where's Youngjae?' Jackson panted, Mark pressed close to his side as they regrouped outside a nearby café. Jinyoung was still confused and dishevelled, shaking slightly from the shock of it. One second he'd been engrossed in the performance, and the next he was pressed against Jaebum, hand clutched painfully tight as he dragged him through the crowd with Jackson and Mark close behind. They'd ran through the chaos, only now having time the catch their breath.

He could see smoke rising from down the street, the sound of a crowd going wild as car windows were smashed and police cars raced down the road. He'd seen a riot before, but he'd never been part of one. Jaebum was still clutching his hand tight, too tight, and looking at him he was caught short by the look on his face, the intensity of his eyes upon him.

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah, I'm fine. You're holding too tight.' He grimaced, tried to flex his fingers, and Jaebum let go abruptly, apologising awkwardly as he turned back to Jackson. Jinyoung hadn't meant for him to let go completely, and he certainly hadn't wanted him to stop looking at him that way - posessive, protective. 'Let's go inside - he knows we were supposed to meet here, he'll make it.'

'Hey, hey!' Someone shouted from behind them, and Jinyoung turned to see the performer - Bambam - running towards them, red faced and breathless, dragging along another guy who looked completely shaken. 'Jackson! Jaebum! That was wild, huh?'

'That's one way to put it.' Jaebum muttered, opening the door to the cafe, and the rest of them followed inside quickly, happy to feel the heat hitting their frozen faces - it was fucking cold in that warehouse.

'Still a grumpy guts, huh?' Bambam snickered as they all shrugged off their coats, and Jaebum's face was a picture of misery. Cute. 'Where's Youngjae?'

'We lost him inside, he should catch up soon. Who's this?' Jackson asked, offering a palm to the stranger looking sheepish beside Bambam.

'I'm Yugyeom.' He offered softly, returning the handshake surprisingly firmly, and Jackson smiled at him warmly.

'Ah, you're Bambam's boyfriend? Poor kid.' He chuckled, and Bambam kicked at him half-heartedly before pulling him in for a hug. Yugyeom looked more frightened than amused, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

'How've you been anyway? Are you gonna introduce me to your friends?' He had a baby-face, but his eyes were keen, looking Jinyoung and Mark up and down like they were for sale.

'This is Mark,' Mark waved politely, face going from awkward to terrified as Bambam threw his arms around him tightly, 'And this is Jinyoung.' Bambam released Mark, turning to drape himself on Jinyoung sloppily. It didn't last long, but glancing at Jaebum for help, the taller man just shrugged and chuckled. Bastard.

'I love meeting new people! Lets get a seat.' Bambam crowed shrilly, throwing his hands up excitedly. At that moment, Youngjae came rushing in, red faced and breathless.

'Guess what just happened!'

'You survived, then.' Jaebum smirked, and Youngjae beamed brightly.

'A local broadcasting company bought my tape of the riot!'

'Awesome!' Jackson patted Youngjae roughly on the back. 'Dinners on you!'

'No no no no.' A waiter came rushing up to them, hands waving wildly. 'Get out, get out.'

'What, why?' Youngjae frowned, pulling off his gloves.

'I don't want a scene in here again, I have important customers tonight.'

'We're not important?'

'You sit all night and never buy!'

Youngjae scoffed, shrugging off his coat. 'I came in for a tea yesterday!'

'You couldn't pay!'

'Oh. yeah...' Youngjae muttered thoughtfully, and Jinyoung chuckled softly before Youngjae pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket, waving it with a bubbly laugh. 'But I can today! Grab a seat, guys.'

'Oh for God's sake.' Groaned the waiter, and Jinyoung grinned widely. There was something warm in his chest being around these guys, like being home. They pulled a few tables together, much to the waiters frustration, and ordered a round of beers. Jinyoung was more than happy to have his knee pressed against Jaebum's, thighs warm against each other even if he was avoiding his eyes.

Mark was opposite him, laughing at something Jackson was saying. He looked happy, and it made Jinyoung happy, if not a little jealous that he had someone who looked at him like that and wasn't ashamed to do so. Yugyeom was looking out of place, awkward and a little wet-eyed beside them, so Jinyoung thought he'd alleviate his stress, seeing as Bambam was otherwise occupied flirting with a waitress.

'Hey, you okay?'

'Yeah, yeah, just a little shocked.' Yugyeom smiled, though it was more of a grimace. 

'Never been around this part of town?'

'Is it that obvious?' He asked, laughing softly. Jinyoung just smiled, winking.

'I just have a keen eye. Your boyfriend seems... busy.' He looked towards where Bambam was leaning close to a waitress, telling a joke and making her blush, and Yugyeom followed his eyes, face crumpling at the sight. He turned back to Jinyoung with a cloudy, tired expression as he stood,

'Sorry.' He said softly, and Jinyoung could only look at him in sympathy as he moved to grab Bambam by the wrist, the smaller boy immediately smiling lasviciously and wrapping himself around Yugyeom flirtily. Poor kid. Jinyoung wasn't the only one looking at them, though, catching Youngjae beside him watching the scene too.

'He's your ex, right?' Jinyoung asked quietly, and Youngjae jumped in surprise before flashing a wide smile.

'Yeah. You can see why.' He laughed, and Jinyoung smiled sadly.

'Did it end badly?'

Youngjae thought for a moment, leaning back in his chair as he exhaled slowly. 'I was angry when I first noticed him doing stuff like that; talking to boys and girls, kissing boys and girls, sleeping with boys and girls, but he never apologised, always had some excuse. You realise there's no point being angry, you just get tired of arguing.' He shrugged, sighing as he took a large sip of his beer, and Jinyoung patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. Youngjae licked his lips, a smile tugging at them and making his eyes crinkle.

'So, you and Jaebum, huh?' He whispered conspiritorally, and Jinyoung rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, huh.'

'Cut him a little slack, he's been kinda stale on the whole dating thing for a long... long while. You might have to blow off the dust.' He cackled, and Jinyoung found himself cracking up just at the sound of it. To think such a bubbly, friendly guy had been so close to him this whole time was a real shame; he was eager to know more about Youngjae, to hear that laugh more often.

Jinyoung watched Yugyeom return to his seat, and Bambam fell into his lap, swigging his beer before slamming it on the table. 'Gyeomie~ you need to go back for my stuff.' He nuzzled at his neck, and Yugyeom didn't even hesitate to shift him as he stood up, running to his beck and call. 'Remember the vococorder! Thank you, baby.' Jinyoung tried to keep his eyebrows from raising, catching Mark's similar expression as unspoken words passed between them.  'What did you guys think of my performance?' Bambam grinned, leaning forward on his elbows and looking around the group eagerly.

'It was definitely a performance.' Jaebum muttered, the first words from his lips since they'd sat, and Bambam glared.

'Does nothing excite you, Jaebum?'

'The thought of you shutting up for thirty seconds really gets my blood pumping, actually.' Jaebum retorted bluntly over the rim of his beer, taking a slow sips as Jinyoung watched his adams apple bob torturously. Bambam scoffed, taking the bait.

'You're as bad as the people we're fighting against, you know. Where's your inspiration? Where's your need to express, communicate - your urge to go against the grain, the burning need to go insane!' Jackson was mimicking him from his blind spot, and Mark was cracking up, Jinyoung fighting to school his expression as he was in Bambam's line of sight. 'You should just work in an office or something with the rest of the unthinking population.'

Youngjae just looked like he'd heard it all before, smiling knowingly with folded arms. Jaebum seemed to enjoy getting on Bambam's nerves. 'You're starving for attention, clinging to any passing fad. So childish.'

Bambam looked incensed by the comment, foaming at the mouth, but his retort was cut short by Yugyeom's return. 'Is the equipment in a pyramid?'

'Yeah-'

'Did you put the mixer in the case? Don't give me that face.' Bambam pouted, and Yugyeom sighed, jumping slightly when Bambam smacked his ass as he turned to leave again. A guy at the bar cleared his throat, and Bambam leaned back with a smile. 'Hey mister, he's my brother.' They all laughed and jeered, the man glaring before returning to his business.

'You're playing that kid for a fool, Bambam.' Jaebum sighed, and Bambam rolled his eyes. A waiter stopped by, asking for their order, and Jinyoung didn't miss Bambam's eyes roaming over him eagerly. 

'Miso soup.'

'Seaweed salad.'

'Soy burger.'

'Tofu platter.

'Pasta with meatless balls.'

Mark scrunched his nose up at Youngjae, looking genuinely offended by his request. 'Ugh!'

'It tastes the same!' Youngjae raised his hands defensively, and Jinyoung giggled.

'If you close your eyes.'

'And thirteen orders of fries.'

'And more beer!'

-

Yugyeom entered the warmth of the restaurant again, catching his breath, but stopped short at the sight of Bambam almost sitting in Youngjae's lap, playfully kissing his cheek. Fuck this, he'd had enough, storming back outside and deciding to walk it off so he could face him with a cool head, willing himself not to cry.

He always cried.

-

Jaebum was still attached to his beer, barely saying a word unless he was spoken to or if Bambam said something he disagreed with, which was almost everything. Jinyoung's patience had met its end, and he stood, patting Jaebum's shoulder before he walked towards the rear exit. Stopping before the door, he turned to see Jaebum following with a confused expression.

'Did I do something wrong? You invited me here but you've ignored me the whole night.'

Jaebum took a moment to speak, and Jinyoung felt like he was walking on a tightrope, heart thudding in his chest. 'Jinyoung, I've got baggage.'

'We all have baggage.'

'Mine is a lot heavier to carry than most.'

Jinyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes. 'Your life isn't a soap opera, Jaebum - if you look around, you might see that other people are suffering too.' Jinyoung sighed, exasperated as he pulled out his meds, watching Jaebum's expression change from perplexed to understanding, looking into his eyes with relief and fear. 'You have no more excuses.'

'You?'

'Me.'

He laughed softly, running his fingers through his copper hair and shaking his head. 'I've been a fucking idiot.'

'The biggest fucking idiot.'

'Who told you?'

'Jackson.'

'Shit.'

Jinyoung smiled softly, taking Jaebum's hand and leading him outside into the cold, brisk air, away from the commotion and prying eyes. His breath fogged, and he wrapped his arms around himself as his feet crunched in the snow, heat rising to his cheeks when Jaebum draped his jacket over his shoulders and walked him backwards until his back hit the wall, leaning over him with dark eyes.

'I'm scared.' He breathed, eyes roaming Jinyoung's face in the dim moonlight.

'That's good, I'm scared too. I guess it means we're still alive.'

'I'm a disaster.'

'That makes two of us.' Jinyoung tilted his head, watching Jaebum as he watched back. 'I didn't need a light that night, you know. I barely smoke. I heard your song.' 

'I haven't been able to get you out of my head.' Jaebum's voice was rough, as if the words were being ripped from him.

'Then stop trying.' Jinyoung breathed, imploring, his heart feeling light and fragile in his chest. His breath caught as Jaebum leaned closer for a moment, and Jinyoung thought he would kiss him, but their lips never met. 

'You're shaking.' 

'It's cold.' 

'Lets go back inside.' Jaebum said, moving away from where he had Jinyoung crowded against the wall, and disappoinment gripped him immediately, but it was replaced with the thrill of excitement, a spark of warmth as Jaebum's hand came to rest on his hip firmly, pulling him to his side with confidence. His eyes were dark slits as he smirked down at Jinyoung, causing a warmth to stir in his chest as he smiled back shyly. It had been a long time since anyone made Jinyoung feel shy.

Jaebum looked good when he smiled. 

The warmth from the tightly packed restaurant was well welcomed as they re-entered, but it seemed they'd missed some drama. Yugyeom was red-faced and teary eyed, voice wobbling slightly as he stood at the table, the group completely silent as they listened to him, and the two of them slipped back into their seats, Jaebum still clasping his hand firmly beneath the table.

-

'Ae we packed?' Bambam asked brightly, shifting from Youngjae's lap casually as Yugyeom rushed in from outside one again, and Yugyeom willed himself to be firm. His voice, however, betrayed him as it always did, breaking pathetically. 

'Yes, and by next week you should be too.' He tried to ignore everyone's eyes on him, fighting the heat from flooding his cheeks. 

'Gyeomie?' Bambam cooed, pulling a face, but Yugyeom drew his eyes away, focusing on anyone but him. 

'By the way,' He adressed the group as Jinyoung and Jaebum came in from outside looking like they just told each other a secret. 'People are still rioting, it's a mess outside so be careful on your way home.' 

'You've caused quite the stir, Bambam.' Jackson smirked, obviously trying to diffuse the palpable tension in the air while Mark just shovelled chips into his mouth with owlish eyes 

When Yugyeom stormed out, he didn't know why he expected Bambam to follow.

-

By 2am they were all roaringly drunk, barely making it back to the apartment. They'd wrecked the restaurant and ended up getting thrown out after Bambam and Youngjae held an impromptu protest while dragging every one up to dance with them on the table. Jinyoung was just as guilty, having shown them all a few moves from the strip club atop the bar, while Jaebum watched with interest and Mark in sheer horror.

Bambam was hanging off Youngjae limply, slurring his words and trying to wrap as many skinny limbs around him as possible. Mark and Jackson were trading sweet kisses and nearly tripping over each other with every clumsy step. Jaebum only had eyes for Jinyoung; how he fit into the nook of his arm so perfectly, how dark his eyes looked in the night as he spoke about art and literature and a thousand other things Jaebum only cared about when they were coming from Jinyoung's lips. 

The lot of them stumbled up the stairs, and they paused at Jinyoung's floor. Youngjae and Bambam continued upwards while Jackson went into Jinyoung's apartment with Mark, throwing Jaebum a wink (more of a drunken blink) before he closed the door slowly, eyebrows raised suggestively, leaving the two of them alone on the landing. 

'Coming inside?' Jinyoung smirked, pulling on Jaebums jacket until he was pressing Jinyoung against the wall. Jaebum leaned his elbow above Jinyoung's head, towering over him and running his tongue over his dry lips. 

'I don't think that's wise, you're drunk.' He rasped, even as he swayed closer to Jinyoung's eager red lips. 

'I've done worse,' he caught his lip between his teeth, running his hands up Jaebum's chest and causing him to suck in a sharp breath. 'Don't you want me?' 

'I want you. sober.' Jaebum breathed, clinging to his morality by a thread. Jinyoung had a voice like sin itself, eyes intoxicating, and all he wanted to do was press him against the wall and make him moan. 

'Bah humbug,' he pouted, and Jaebum chuckled throatily, running a thumb over those full lips. 

'You can have this for now,' Jaebum smirked teasingly as he leaned in, pressing his lips against Jinyoung's and drowning in them, sweet and slow and delicious - clumsy, sloppy, awkward, but unbelievably satisfying. Jinyoung's fingers were in his hair, on his neck, gripping at his back as Jaebum ran his own up and down Jinyoung's sides, fighting himself not to slide beneath his shirt and feel his skin like he was desperate to. Jinyoung was delicate, breakable, and Jaebum didn't trust himself to handle him as gently as he needed to be handled - Jinyoung needed things to go slow, and Jaebum needed to remember how all of this worked; rushing into it now would ruin everything. 

They broke apart for air, Jinyoung's teeth lingering on Jaebum's bottom lip as he gasped, pupils blown and lips reddened, looking all kinds of debauched and wanton. Jaebum pecked his lips once more, ran his thumb over his cheek with a lingering, fond look. 

Jinyoung smiled lazily, drunk and giddy and looking like a schoolboy who'd just kissed his crush. Jaebum had never found it so difficult to walk away from someone as he did then.

'Goodnight, Jinyoung.' 

'Goodnight Jaebum.'

-

Mark collapsed on his bed with a lazy smile, watching Jackson wobble his way around the room as he took off his clothes clumsily and eventually tripping over a canvas and falling flat on his face. Mark giggled, and Jackson feigned ignorance, doing some push ups as if he'd intended on falling to the floor. He grinned as he got to his feet, flexing his muscles idiotically and drawing another bout of laughter from Mark's lips before he climbed on top of him, kissing his smiling mouth slowly, indulgently. 

Mark ran his hands over Jackson's hips, fingers dipping beneath his vest and trailing up his defined chest as he wrapped a leg around Jackson's thigh and pressed close enough to feel Jackson's heat. Jackson broke the kiss abruptly, and Mark was drunken and dazed, trying to follow his warm lips, but Jackson was already leaning on his elbow,  hovering over him and watching him closely. 

'Tell me what you want.' He breathed, and Mark trailed his hand down Jackson's thick bicep. 

'You.' 

'I've made a lot of mistakes in my life Mark, I don't want this to be another one.' 

Mark just smiled softly, placing a palm against Jackson's worried face soothingly. 'If this is a mistake, it'll be the best one I've ever made.' 

Jackson still looked hesitant, but Mark was certain, sure that he wanted nothing more than Jackson hot and heavy on top of him. He was ready for this, and he was well overdue it. He tugged at the front of Jackson's vest, pulling him down to kiss him once again, and Jackson returned it slowly, tentatively pulling Mark's body closer and stroking up his sides, making Mark's skin tingle and his hips jump. 

His hands were cold against Mark's skin, large and rough as they grazed his ribs and thumbed at his rigid nipples, making him gasp against Jackson's mouth. Jackson dipped his tongue inside at that, the two of them exchanging breaths as their tongues entwined hotly, the heady perfection of a kiss that was always more prominent when you were drunk, the heaviness and thickness of it swirling in your mind and pulling you in deeper. 

He pulled on Jackson's vest impatiently, breaking the kiss to pull it over his head, and Jackson sat back on his knees, tugging at his belt while Mark did the same, the two of them kicking their jeans off clumsily as they laughed like children about to get caught. Sneaking wide-eyed glances at each other as more skin was revealed, they traded shy smiles, and at the sight of Jackson's tented underwear, Marks legs fell open wider subconsciously in anticipation. Jackson saw it, though, smirking cockily as he palmed at his own crotch, looking down at Mark hungrily, teasingly. 

'Like what you see?' 

'Size doesn't matter if you don't know how to use it.' Mark retorted cheekily, and Jackson raised an eyebrow, eagerly rising to the challenge.

'Oh, I know how to use it.' He slurred, tugging Mark behind the knees towards him until his backside was pressed to Jackson's thighs, leaning down to capture his lips again as he ground his hips down against Mark's, sweet friction overwhelming his touch-starved body. Jackson bit his lip, pressed wet kisses to his jaw and throat as Mark's back arched and his hips rolled wantonly, tightly wound and in need of release.

'Jackson, hurry up or I'll come.' He urged, and Jackson snickered.

'So romantic, Mark.' He sucked a bruise into Mark's neck before sitting up and pulling Mark's boxers off in one smooth motion. He was too drunk to feel shy, only feeling raw arousal when Jackson spread his legs wide and took in the sight of him slowly, hungrily, the unabashed appreciation making Mark's cock twitch where it lay heavy and wet against his abdomen.

Jackson dipped his head between Mark's thighs, pushing the backs of them up and making Mark groan deeply as his wet tongue dragged over his hole, causing short, sharp breaths to leave his lips with every twist and suck, nearly wailing when Jackson dipped the muscle inside filthily, cheeks spread apart by strong hands as Jackson's eyes watched him greedily.

Soon Jackson's tongue was replaced by thick fingers, drawing obscene noises from Mark's lips, and Jackson's eyes fought to stay open as Mark dipped a hand inside his boxers, thumbing the slit teasingly before he tugged the material down, Jackson's thick cock springing free. Mark's mouth ran dry, want surging in him at the sight and making him tighten around Jackson's fingers. When he tore his eyes away to meet Jackson's again, he was watching him intently, and Mark just smiled.

'I want you.' 

-

Jinyoung crawled into his bed, heavy and sleepy and content, butterflies filling his stomach and a warmth lingering on his lips. Even drunk, Jaebum was a good kisser, and his walls came down so easily, the Jaebum he was hiding from the world suddenly coming to light and blossoming beneath Jinyoung's gaze.

It turned out he was a huge dork, honestly, witty and endlessly supplying bad jokes. This was why Jackson had told him to wait, because now Jinyoung was sure Jaebum was worth the fight. 

As he fell into a heavy, drunken sleep, he dreamt of Jaebum's eyes upon him, and three husky words leaving his lips.

-

Youngjae dragged Bambam's clinging body up the stairs, groaning as he closed the door and pulled him over to the sofa, depositing him there heavily. The kid didn't weigh a thing, but he had a way of pulling you down when he was drunk. Most people would think he was unconscious, but Youngjae knew better, knew it was all an act for attention - attention Youngjae was tired of giving.

He placed a glass of water on the table with some painkillers, grabbed a spare duvet and a few blankets and threw them over where he was slumped dramatically.

'One night only, Bambam. Don't try and move in again.' He sighed, Bambam not replying even though Youngjae knew he'd heard him. As he washed up for bed, he wondered why he still felt anything for him at all when he knew every trick up his sleeve, the way his voice changed when he lied, how he thought good sex was the same as an apology.

He'd barely closed his eyes when he heard light footsteps padding into his room, the matress dipping beneath additional weight and Bambam's arm slipping over his waist.

'Get out.'

'Don't you miss me, even a bit? I miss you.' Bambam breathed, tickling the back of Youngjae's neck. He repressed the shiver it sent down his spine, Bambam's voice dripping sweetly like treacle. 'Yugyeom doesn't give me what you gave me-'

'Stop.'

'You've changed. You used to be so much fun.' Youngjae could hear the pout in his voice, glad he had his back turned on him. He always fell for the pout.

'I was blind to your lies back then, Bam. My eyes are open now.'

Bambam groaned, rolling onto his back with a huff. There was a long pause, and Youngjae was frozen in place, willing himself not to give in, not to fall under Bambam's spell again, but he was surprised by Bambam's next words. 'I did love you, you know. I love Yugyeom, I think.'

Youngjae raised an eyebrow, wondering where Bambam was going with this - he'd never heard the word love fall from his forked tongue before, and he wondered if this was another trap. 'I just get scared. I don't want to be trapped; I need freedom, choices. Yugyeom wouldn't understand, he doesn't understand. He's always crying and walking out on me.' Youngjae just listened silently, knowing Bambam would fall asleep eventually. 'Youngjae, there's something I always meant to tell you, you know.' Bambam slurred sleepily, and Youngjae still didn't reply, closing his eyes and wishing for sleep.

'I just- ugh, m'gonna be sick.'

-

Mark was beautiful, face lost in pleasure as his lips formed soft words and leaked breathy moans with every thrust of Jackson's hips. Jackson had always been a pleaser, giving more than he recieved, but with Mark the gift was in the giving - the way he trembled beneath Jackson, how tight he was around him, clenching around his cock as he raked his blunt nails down Jackson's broad back. It was slow and deep and filled with unspoken words, a promise of the flesh. 

Jackson watched in awe as Mark came, pulling him along for the ride as his own orgasm crashed over him at the sight and sensation until they collapsed breathlessly, drunk and sated in the afterglow. Mark lay on his side, fingers dancing over Jackson's sweaty chest as his eyes watched him intently, a small smile on his blushing lips. 

'I love you.' Jackson whispered, as if speaking any louder would make it a lie, and Mark went still.

'Do you love me, or do you love me right now because I'm naked and drunk?'

'I love you. I want you to know now, so I can tell you every day. I don't know when our time will run out, when it'll be too late to say it.' 

His chest was tight, heavy as he watched Mark think. He watched his brown eyes grow wet, lips hesitating on unspoken words. 'I...'

'You don't have to say it. Just tell me how you feel right now, in this exact moment. That's all you need to do. That's all I need to hear.'

'I love you, too.'

Jackson leaned close for a slow, sweet kiss, tasting the words on Mark's lips before he pulled away with a sly grin.

'Can I ask you a question?'

'Ask me anything.' Mark breathed, eyelids heavy as he fought sleep.

'You and Jinyoung, who topped and who bottomed?'

Mark groaned, rolled his eyes and pinched Jackson's lips together tiredly. 'That's enough out of you tonight.'

-

Yugyeom unlocked the door to his apartment with numb fingers, throwing his coat on the sofa and kicking his shoes off roughly - different to his usual obsessive tidiness. Slamming the door behind himself, he ignored the flashing light of his answering machine and went straight to bed. He'd always been a crybaby; anger, disappointment, happiness all bringing him to tears. He'd broken up with Bambam so many times since they moved in together that the fact his infidelity still upset him was shocking.

He saw every lingering look, every subtle touch of hands, sultry smiles thrown at every passerby who took his fancy. It frustrated him, made him feel imperfect and unworthy.

They'd attended the same college, Bambam studying performance arts while Yugyeom studied law - like his parents wanted him to. He had no real passion for it, but he'd disappointed his parents in so many ways, he had to do well in something. He'd seen him with Youngjae, heard about his reputation, but he'd still fallen for him. He remembered the drunken night they'd shared at a party, how many embarrassing things he'd rambled about while Bambam sucked his cock. Of all the people he could've lost his virginity to, it had to be Bambam; Yugyeom didn't have much confidence in the first place, and now he had none.

Bambam had sucked him dry, made him feel inferior, not good enough, second best. It hurt like a gaping wound and he muffled his sobs in his pillow. He'd sacrificed so much, put his degree on the line, outed himself to his parents unintentionally, and here he was lying alone in his double bed while Bambam was probably out fucking some beautiful stranger.

In the end, though, he knew he'd never stop loving him, and that was what hurt the most. 

-

an: i can't stop making 'coming inside' jokes im a child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scene between Jackson + Mark: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUY_st9c-QA / (i hate this scene) Bambam's performance scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMqxFfuSvW8 / the scene in the restaurant is a bastardisation of 'la vie boheme' which i really couldn't give justice to: https://myspace.com/josephprophet17/video/-la-vie-boheme-from-rent/103579572 / the scene between Jinyoung + Jaebum - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBixCiQ6uJo


	4. Four

The night was cold, a clear sky and a pale moon illuminating the grass Jinyoung and Jaebum sat upon. The original plan had been to meet up at the park, but the others were taking so long Jinyoung had already pursuaded Jaebum to pop open their cheap champagne, the two of them drinking the whole bottle a little too fast before the others even arrived.

  
Honestly, Jinyoung had forgotten there were other people in the world apart from Jaebum. His lips were hot against his own, arms warm and strong around his waist as he sat in Jaebum's lap, pulling away with a giggle. He'd drowned in Jaebum the past few days, finding every excuse to visit his apartment, even going so far as to clean his own - with the help of Mark and Jackson. 

There was only so much he could hide from Mark, the older boy saw through Jackson's attempts at hiding Jinyoung's weakened state from him easily. He was forcing three meals a day down his throat, making him rest and watching him like a hawk whenever he was around. He'd flushed all his dope away after a heated - yet short - argument, and Jinyoung let it be. He wasn't alone anymore, he could quit. 

He had a new addiction, now, anyway.

'I'm giving up my vices. I'm going back to art school.' He breathed as Jaebum nipped at his collarbone teasingly. 'What about you?'

Jaebum detached from him reluctantly, looking at him slowly. 'I don't do resolutions, I never keep them.'

Jinyoung slowly slipped his arms around Jaebum's neck, adjusting himself in his lap and leaning in to brush their noses together softly. 'Don't think of them as resolutions then.' He leaned away slightly, looking down at Jaebum. 'I want to remember this year, the drugs make me forget. And I want to finish a painting before I die.'

'Don't say that-'

'-Why?' 

Jaebum swallowed thickly, closing his eyes for a moment before meeting Jinyoung's gaze once again. 'Okay. I'll write you a song. That's my resolution.'

Jinyoung smiled softly, and Jaebum tugged him down for a kiss, rolling him over onto his back on the frozen grass as he laughed against his mouth.

'How long until New Years day?' 

Jaebum rolled off him, and Jinyoung opened his eyes to see Jackson standing over them, scantily clad in a tightly fitted girls school uniform, rouge on his lips and a cheap blonde wig sitting lopsided on his head. Mark stood beside him looking tiredly amused, dressed as he normally would with his hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets. He shrugged at Jinyoung's questioning gaze. 'Don't ask him why he's dressed like this.'

'What on Earth are you wearing Jackson?' Jaebum chuckled, taking in the full glory of him as he stood proudly, glitter twinkling on his eyelids.

'Don't opress me, Jaebum. Gender is fluid, get with the times - I can dress as Britney Spears if I want to. New Year, new me.' He rambled, snapping his fingers with a hand on his hip as Mark rolled his head back tiredly. Apparently he'd recieved the same answer. Jinyoung just chuckled, blessed to be surrounded by such idiots.

'Ok, ok, where's Youngjae?' 

'He went to meet up with Bambam and Yugyeom, he'll be here in a minute.' Mark supplied, setting down a bag of cheap booze and sitting beside Jinyoung with a sigh.  
Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. 'They're back together?' 

'Seems like it. I don't really understand the whole situation, really.'

'Nobody answered my question!' Jackson whined, sitting down in front of the three of them cross legged and exposing parts of his anatomy Jinyoung really didn't need to see. Jaebum checked his watch, clicking his tongue. 

'Ten minutes until another shitty year.' He announced dully, and Jackson grinned, cooing as he reached for Jaebum's face, tugging at his cheeks teasingly. 

'Poor baby, I thought you'd be excited.' 

Jaebum fought him off with a half-hearted frown, quirking an eyebrow. 'Why would I be excited? I'm broke, it's cold and every year I'm closer to my dea-'  
'-Yeah yeah, okay Mr Doom. What about love?' He grinned stupidly, and Jaebum cringed visibly. 'Ain't it nice to have someone to smooch into the new year? Remember to wear protection kids- oh, I guess it's too late for that talk.'

'That's dark, Jackson.' Mark chuckled, swatting at his bare thigh before Jackson caught his wrist and pulled him into his lap with a smirk. 

'Better to laugh about it than to cry like this big baby over here.' He pointed at Jaebum and the older man jumped forward as if to bite the digit, making Jackson recoil with a yelp, to Jaebum's visible pleasure. 'He's rabid, call infection control.'

'You're an ass.'

'Who's an ass?' Youngjae asked, collapsing beside Jackson with a wide grin.

'Jackson's an ass.' Mark supplied loftily, and Jackson nuzzled his throat, making him giggle.

'I think you meant to say I have a great ass.'

'Definitely not what I meant to say.'

'Enough of the PDA guys, I don't want to throw up until at least 4am.' Youngjae laughed brightly. He grabbed another bottle of champagne, popping the cork and taking a swig as the foam dribbled down his chin before recoiling from the taste. 'Is this legal?'

'Probably not, but it works.' Jinyoung chuckled, proving the statement by winking drunkenly.

'I thought you were meeting Bambam and Yugyeom?' Mark asked inquisitively, taking the bottle from Youngjae as he suppressed a belch.

'Oh, they started bitching at each other so I gave them some space.' He nodded to the entrance of the park as two figures entered, 'I think that's them.'  
An excited, indecipherable screech sounded from that direction, and they all nodded. 'Yeah, that's Bambam.'

'Woah, okay - that's definitely Bambam. At least you're not the only one dressed up, Jackson.' Jaebum scoffed as the two of them came into sight, revealing Bambam zipped into a skintight PVC catsuit. Yugyeom was just wearing his typical long coat, scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face as he shivered. 

'Hey, guys.' He greeted softly, muffled by his scarf. Mark patted the space beside him and Jackson, and Yugyeom looked visibly relieved to be welcomed. Bambam draped himself over Jaebum's lap, his outfit creaking with every move as Jaebum pushed him off roughly. He just snickered, sitting beside Youngjae instead and leaning against him heavily.

'Jackson! I love the outfit.' He drawled, and Jackson raised his bottle of champagne in acknowledgement.

'How'd you fit yourself into that?' Jackson nodded towards his painfully tight attire, and Bambam waggled his eyebrows.

'Persistence and lots of talcum powder.'

Yugyeom groaned weakly, closing his eyes and throwing his head back tiredly. 'It was a mess. I'll be cleaning my apartment for months.'

'Okay, New Year's in three minutes. Let's get somewhere to see the fireworks.' Mark announced, jumping to his feet and pulling Jackson up eagerly. 

Jaebum stood, holding out a hand for Jinyoung, and he took it, warmth spreading through him when Jaebum pulled him to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist firmly.   
Happy New Year indeed.

-

Fireworks crashed overhead, and Youngjae watched with a soft, sad smile as his friends held each other and exchanged kisses, illuminated in changing pink, blue and yellow. It wasn't loneliness or jealousy that made his smile falter and his heart tighten, but the lingering question of whether he'd ever see another New Year with them all again. 

It was 8am before they finally stumbled home, blind drunk and giddy, giggling like idiots in the early winter sunrise. Their smiles faded as soon as they approached, though, and Youngjae ran up to the front door of their apartment building in confusion, numb fingers closing around the padlock and shaking it in disbelief. 

'It's locked! What the fuck!' He yelled, banging on the door fruitlessly as the others exclaimed in surprise. 

He turned at the sound of a loud scrape, seeing Mark hauling up a nearby trashcan without hesitation as he shook out the contents and carried it over to the door. 'Stand back, guys.' He grunted, trash can under his arm like a battering ram. 

'Woah, be careful Mark-'

'I've got this!' Mark slurred, smiling lazily back at them before he turned back to the door and swung once, twice, three times, the bin smashing against the door loudly before the padlock cracked open and he dropped the bin triumphantly, turning to the with raised arms as they all applauded. 

'Where did you learn that?' Youngjae gasped in awe, eyes drooping as he smiled stupidly. Mark just shrugged, latching back onto Jackson's bicep as his boyfriend gazed at him lovingly. 

'I've done it plenty of times before.' 

'That was seriously the most erotic thing I've ever seen.' Jackson drawled, and Jaebum snickered beside him. 

'What about the time you got a hard-on when the rehab nurse gave you an enema.' 

Youngjae doubled over in laughter, Bambam screeching and Mark simply staring at Jackson in awe. Jackson punched Jaebum in the arm hard, and Jaebum dragged him in for a headlock, the two of them dissolving into an impromptu street fight that took a good ten minutes to break up. 

Punches were still being thrown when they trudged into Jaebum's apartment, Yugyeom holding Jackson back with surprising ease while he wriggled and spat childish insults at Jaebum's taunting grin. 

Youngjae had seen it all before, knowing it was in love rather than hate. He'd caught most of it on camera for posterity, anyway, and left the two of them to it, walking past them to set his camera on the coffee table before he paused. 

A letter was placed there, and he was sure it wasn't there before. He took it in hand, squinting as he tried to read it with blurry eyes. Jinyoung peered over his shoulder as his face began to cloud, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder comfortingly as he read the words Youngjae was reading. 

'Hyung,' Youngjae breathed, turning back to the brawl that was still ongoing. 'Hyung!'

Jaebum paused, and Jackson took the opportunity to dig him in the ribs, making him curse. 'Fuck, what?!' 

'Look at this.' Youngjae offered the letter, and Jaebum limped over, clutching his waist with a grimace before he snatched it from his hands. His eyebrows furrowed further and further as he read before he closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a long breath. He closed his fist on the letter crumpling it up angrily and throwing it to the ground before he sat heavily on the sofa, head in his hands.

'Bastard.' He muttered, and Jackson tottered over, picking up the balled up paper and unfolding it. 

'Shit.'

'What's wrong, guys?' Bambam asked, peering at their pensive faces, Yugyeom looking just as confused.

Youngjae shook his head in disbelief. 'Our landlord wants to evict us - well, he is evicting us. Apparently he's already warned us, but I've never seen any letters.' 

'I didn't think it would come to this.' Jaebum sighed, leaning his head back against the sofa. Jinyoung sat beside him, frowning.

'Come to what? I live here too, what's going on?'

'My dad called me yesterday-'

'What's your dad got to do with this?' Youngjae asked, baffled. 

Jaebum avoiding his eyes, licking his lips and answering slowly. 'He owns the building.'

'Your dad is the landlord? Are you fucking kidding me?' Youngjae bristled, dropping formalities momentarily. 'Why did you never tell me this? I live here! This is my life too!

Whatever's going on with your family, keep me and Jinyoung out of it.'

'Watch who you're talking to, Youngjae.' Jaebum uttered darkly, looking at him sharply, buy Youngjae didn't flinch this time. 

'Why do I get evicted just because you're having problems with daddy? Bullshit.' 

Jaebum stood abruptly, squaring up to Youngjae with a tight jaw, challenging him to say more, but Youngjae stood his ground, glaring back at him. Yugyeom quickly slipped between them, placing his palms on their chests to keep them apart.

'Woah, woah guys. Relax. This can be resolved, just chill. You're technically squatters if you stay here, but there's legal action you can take. Let's talk through it tomorrow when we're sober and less... tense.'

Youngjae and Jaebum didn't break eye contact for a few long seconds before Youngjae shook his head, sighing. 'If it's because you've fucked up the rent again then I can fix this. Just this once.'

'How?' Jaebum grumbled, and Youngjae frowned.

'The news network that bought my footage of the riot offered me a job. I didn't want to sell my soul, but it seems like I'll have to if I want a pillow to sleep on. I'll ask for an advance on my wages.' He bit the words out, and Jaebum actually looked guilty. 'Hyung, this is the last time I help. Get your life back on track or I'm gone and you can solve your own problems for once.'

Mark sighed before Jaebum could respond, cutting the tension with a simple suggestion. 'Lets make some resolutions.' He flopped down onto the sofa and patted his knees lightly, the group turning to look at him in surprise. Youngjae was thankful for the change in tone, even if he was still furious. 

Jinyoung smiled softly at Mark, resting his feet on the coffee table and swigging the remnants of his champagne. 'I'll drink to that.'

'Let's always stay friends.' Jackson suggested cheesily, squeezing onto the chair beside the two of them, thick thighs pale and garish in the daylight. His lipstick was smeared all over the place from the multiple makeout sessions he and Mark had sneaked off for during the night and his mascara was a tragedy.

Yugyeom smiled softly, 'We fall out a lot, though. Might be a hard one to keep.' He shared a glance with Bambam, who stuck his tongue out. 

'This family's got deep roots.'

'Friendship is thicker than blood.' Mark beamed sunnily, and Jaebum shrugged, always one to rain on the parade. 

'That depends.'

Youngjae rolled his eyes, 'Depends on trust.'

'Depends on love.' Jinyoung asserted, locking eyes with Jaebum, and Youngjae let his argument rest. 

He brushed shoulders with Jaebum for a moment, whispering, 'Depends on not denying emotion.' Jaebum looked at him in confusion, but Youngjae just grabbed the nearest beer and raised it, yelling cheerfully - 'It's gonna be a happy new year!'

Everybody raised their own drinks, or their empty palms in a loud shout. 

'A HAPPY NEW YEAR!'

\- 

By noon Bambam and Yugyeom were curled up on the couch together, dead to the world while the others sat on the floor and ate breakfast. Youngjae was the first to leave for bed, snapping a photograph of the two sleeping teenagers before nodding sleepily at the rest of the group and shuffling away. 

They'd managed to force Jackson to cover his indecency with a robe at some point, and he tightened it around his waist suddenly, getting to his feet with a deep sigh. 'Okay, I'm beat.' He announced, and they all murmured their assent. Mark wobbled to his feet, a mix of drunkenness and exhaustion, and Jinyoung followed after them as they made for the door. 

An arm blocked his path when he tried to leave the apartment after them, though, Jaebum pressing close to him with a palm on the doorframe. Jinyoung heard a noise of surprise as Mark tripped on the stairs, but he didn't glance away from Jaebum's piercing gaze, trapped. Jaebum closed the distance without hesitation Jaebum, lips warm and firm, slow but insistent and somewhat needier than usual.

When they broke apart for air, eyes lingering on one anothers lips, Jinyoung brushed a stray lock of copper hair from Jaebum's forehead, his hand lingering at his neck. 'Happy New Year.'

'This time, I think it might be.' 

Jinyoung watched him for a moment before moving in for another kiss, the sweetness from before quickly turning into something rich and indulgent until tongues were entwined and Jaebum was walking them backwards towards his bedroom. He slipped his palms down Jinyoung's back until he was cupping just beneath his backside, pulling Jinyoung's thighs up around h­­­is waist effortlessly while Jinyoung's hands quickly wrapped around Jaebum's wide back to hold himself up. 

Jinyoung felt himself harden scarily fast, because, fuck, Jaebum was strong. He turned them around, lips leaving Jinyoung's to bite and suck at his neck, keeping his eyes on where he was walking as Jinyoung gripped him tighter and gasped. Kicking the door to his room open he practically threw Jinyoung onto his bed, giving Jinyoung no chance to look around nosily before he was spreading his thighs and climbing between them, reclaiming his lips hungrily.

The kiss was cut short as Jinyoung pushed him away for a moment, palm flat on his chest, and Jaebum looked down at him in confusion as if Jinyoung was refusing him. Jinyoung trailed his fingers over Jaebums jaw as he watched him quizzically, taking in the moment. He'd never wanted something so badly before, but now that it was happening he wanted every second to last as long as possible.

'What's the rush?' He breathed, and Jaebum cocked an eyebrow. 

'I didn't take you for the foreplay type.' He smirked, and Jinyoung didn't back down from the teasing. 

'Who doesn't appreciate a hard, slow fuck every once in a while?' He purred, watching Jaebum's eyes darker, 'Besides, it's a holiday.' He wrapped his legs around Jaebum's waist, rolling his hips teasingly as the older man groaned roughly, 'We have all the time in the world.' Jaebum's eyes fluttered shut for a moment before he stared down at Jinyoung with intent. 

'I haven't done this in a while, so bear with me.' He uttered gruffly, and Jinyoung chuckled. 'What's so funny?' 

'That's really cute, old man. It's a shame, I wanted this to last more than ten minutes, but I wouldn't want you to break a hip.' 

'I'm one more witty comment away from gagging you and fucking you into the matress.' Jaebum breathed roughly against Jinyoung's ear, a sharp breath leaving Jinyoung's lips before the older man leaned away. He pulled his shirt off gracelessly before practically tearing at Jinyoung's, and Jinyoung had to pause for breath at the sight of him, taking in the planes and dips of jaebums torso, the definition in his thin body. 

He was much broader than Jinyoung, more masculine but still slight and undernourished. A spark of self consciousness rose in him as Jaebum eyed his uncovered flesh, and his breath hitched as his hand smoothed over his chest too gently, his eyes too adoring. Even back when he was with Mark it was never like this - with Mark there was no hesitation or anticipation, it was something that happened in the spur of the moment and turned into something comfortable and convenient. 

After Mark he'd thrown himself at whoever he felt like having that night, numb and uncaring, mind detaching from his body until his partner was done and spent before he'd roll off the bed, pulling on his clothes and walking home - rinse and repeat. Now it was unhealthy, frightening how much he wanted Jaebum, how awestruck he was that he wanted him back. He'd never been touched so gently, looked upon so fondly, and Jaebum paused in his caress, hand leaving his chest to thumb at his cheek and wipe away a tear. 

'Why are you crying?' He asked softly, leaning over him on his elbows, face so close that his nose brushed Jinyoung's and his hair tickled at his forehead, coal eyes searching for something deep in Jinyoung's core. 

'I'm not.' 

'You are.' 

'I changed my mind. Do it rough and fast and get it over with-' 

'No.' 

'Please.' 

'What are you afraid of?' 

'I don't want to start this and leave it unfinished like everything else in my life.' 

'Not everything has to finish.' 

'Yes, it does, Jaebum - this will end and it will hurt and I'm tired of hurting.' Jinyoung couldn't hold back his tears anymore, tumbling down his cheeks without abandon as his lips quivered with repressed sobs and sentences too painful to construct died on his tongue. 'Don't look at me.' 

'Don't tell me what to do.' Jaebum breathed, smirking softly, brushing his lips over Jinyoung's bitten ones. 'Not unless you're telling me to touch you.' 

'Touch me, then.' 

Jaebum pressed his lips to Jinyoung's wet cheeks, kissing away his tears before returning to his mouth and kissing him deeply, pressing against them firmly enough to bruise as his hands trailed down Jinyoung's sides once again, fingers dancing over his ribs deftly. 

Jinyoung gasped when Jaebum pulled away to mouth at his jaw and suck at his throat, moving lower and mapping out every inch of his torso, shoulders, arms, wrists; kissing every freckle and blemish, running his lips over the track marks littering his forearms. Jinyoung was mesmorised, clinging onto the sheets for some semblance of safety as jolts of pleasure shot through him at Jaebum's silken touch, ticklishly light then stirringly firm. 

The light of the day was pale, turning his hair gold where it was splayed over Jinyoung's chest, making his olive skin turn to marble. Jinyoung's chest was tight, a lump in his throat as he watched Jaebum silently map out his skin diligently, unashamed to worship him so blatantly. 

It was a shock to Jinyoung's system, this side of Jaebum. He'd only known him a short amount of time, but they'd made out and fooled around plenty in the past week or so and he never seemed this enraptured by Jinyoung. It was frightening, the realisation that jaebum might hold more than lust for him. A four letter word pricked at Jinyoung's mind, stirred his heart, but he just closed his eyes, pressing back into the pillow and focusing on the sensations running through his body. 

There was a pause, a lack of contact as the bed shifted, and Jinyoung opened his eyes to see Jaebum leaning over him again, capturing his jaw softly and tilting it towards him.

'Don't close your eyes.' 

'Why not? It's embarrassing.' 

'That's stupid.' Jaebum deadpanned loftily, and Jinyoung pinched his bicep sharply in irritation as Jaebum chuckled, rubbing at the wounded spot quickly before he sat back on his calves, unfastening his belt and popping his button. His tight jeans slipped lower on his hips and made Jinyoung's lower half stir once again in anticipation. 

Jaebum discontinued his striptease to reach for Jinyoung's jeans instead, tugging them off roughly as Jinyoung squawked in surprise, a sinister smile on his lips. It seemed like he really enjoyed seeing Jinyoung squirm, and Jinyoung repressed the urge to cover his tented boxers, choosing to fake confidence to hide how insecure he felt. 

He spread his legs wider, watching Jaebum's face coyly as he ran a hand down his chest slowly, over the dip of his bellybutton before reaching into his boxers and taking himself into hand beneath the fabric, his head rolling back briefly at the contact. Jaebum simply watched, and Jinyoung envied his composure. Jaebum was unreadable, looking amused if anything, like he could grab a box of popcorn and sit there for a while, but soon enough his hand moved back to his own jeans, shucking them down to mid-thigh along with his black briefs. 

Unlike Jaebum, Jinyoung was an open book, eyes glued to the gift he was being presented with as his own cock pulsed in his palm and a mortifying whine left his lips. Jaebum had large, masculine hands, and his member still looked impressive in his grip, straight and stiff, the head the same blushing colour as his lips and beading with precum. While Jinyoung might not have been able to read Jaebum's facial expressions, his lower half told him everything he needed to know. 

Jinyoung made to move to his knees, eager to have Jaebum in his mouth, but Jaebum pressed a hand to his shoulder, pushing him back down to the bed before climbing atop him and kissing him filthily. He pushed a hand down the front of Jinyoung's boxers, batting away Jinyoung's fist to fondle him. With a gasp, Jinyoung's hand knotted in Jaebum's hair as his knees fell open wide and his hips canted with every pull of Jaebum's fist. 

He gasped into Jaebum's mouth as they kissed loosely, and the older man pulled him onto his side as he flopped down beside him, kicking his jeans and boxers off completely before pressing close to Jinyoung, their cocks nudging against each other and making them both groan. 

Jaebum broke the kiss for breath, and Jinyoung sighed, mouth ajar and lips swollen and wet. He couldn't help but chase after Jaebum's lips, almost like a magnetic pull, but Jaebum just smirked, dodging him teasingly. He released Jinyoung's member, hand slipping over his hip to squeeze his ass, softly then firmly, making Jinyoung moan unabashedly into the pillow. 

'Lie the other way.' jaebum muttered, voice rough and thick with arousal, a sound that made Jinyoung's mouth water. He moved to roll over, but Jaebum held his hip to stop him, shaking his head slightly. 'No, facing me - legs up here.' He rasped, and Jinyoung could've came just at the mental image, tentatively shifting down the bed so a thigh was slung over Jaebum's shoulder and the copper haired mans' cock was an inch away from his lips, hard and dripping. 

He lapped at the head tentatively, pride swelling at Jaebum's reaction as he gripped Jinyoung's ass roughly, groaning as his cock jumped visibly and left a wet trail on Jinyoung's cheek. He blew gently over the tip, preparing himself mentally before he wrapped his lips around the head and sucked, steeling himself when Jaebum's hips jumped slightly before he could control himself, a guttural moan ripped from his throat. 

He took him in deep, expertly, saliva dripping down his chin as his nose brushed against his balls, and Jaebum choked. 'Fuck, do you not have a gag reflex?' Smug pride rose in him at the fact he could shake Jaebum's stoic demeanour so easily, tongue flat against the underside of his cock as he bobbed his head steadily. 

He felt strong hands part his buttocks roughly and moaned around Jaebum's length at the sensation of a wet, hot tongue suddenly lapping at his spread hole, hips twitching abruptly as he struggled to keep his pace, his own cock dripping as Jaebum pressed inside. 

A slender digit traced the ring of muscle slowly, teasingly, before dipping in alongside his tongue and stretching him slowly. He pressed back as best as he could in his position, hole twitching and tensing as he sucked Jaebum harder, the older man's voice breaking with every bob of his head. His finger pressed deeper as he removed his tongue and bit at the soft flesh of his ass, a second digit entering without hesitation and making Jinyoung whimper from the back of his throat. 

Jaebum teased him open almost strategically - just slow enough not to hurt, but fast enough that he could feel it. By the time he was scissoring three fingers and sucking bruises into his upper thigh, Jinyoung was trembling, cock achingly hard to the point of pain, and he pulled off Jaebum's cock sloppily, gasping for breath and unable to hold his voice in. 

Jaebum pulled his fingers out suddenly, leaving him gaping and empty, clenching around nothing compulsively. He tilted his head as best as he could, watching with blown pupils as Jaebum spread his ass wide again, admiring his work before he slapped a cheek sharply, making Jinyoung gasp in shock and arousal, flinching from the assault before pushing back in anticipation. 

Another blow never came, Jaebum pushing his thighs from his neck and shifting to his knees, leaving Jinyoung to scramble after him dizzily until they faced each other again. Jaebum moved his lips to speak, but Jinyoung pressed a hand to his chest firmly, pushing him back onto the matress and slinging a thigh over his hip, straddling him. 

He was a mess, chest heaving for breath and lips red and ruined, cheeks wet with tears from taking Jaebum so deep, and Jaebum looked up at him in awe. 'You're a demon.' He breathed, and Jinyoung smirked, leaning down to kiss him slowly as he reached back to ease Jaebum's cock inside him slowly, the two of them abandoning the kiss to moan open-mouthed as he stretched around him, hot and thick. 

He didn't pause, rocking gently in Jaebum's lap, sitting back and resting his palms on the older man's knees for leverage. Jaebum tried to roll his hips, but Jinyoung had him pinned, savouring the feeling of total control. The copper haired man could only claw at him blindly, mouth slack as breathy moans left his lips with every cant of Jinyoung's hips. 

Gripping Jinyoung's folded knees, he pulled them out from under him to spread them before him, leaving Jinyoung exposed, the new angle pressing Jaebum's cock deeper inside him. His cock grazed Jinyoung's prostate, and the younger man cried out, head rolling as his back arched. 

Jaebum took advantage of his lapse in concentration to fuck up into him hard, making him nearly choke on his wanton moans. Sitting up quickly, he flipped them over so he was on top, slipping his arms beneath Jinyoung's thighs and pushng them up to his chest, not losing pace once as his eyebrows knitted together in exersion, sweat slick on his skin as he slammed into Jinyoung without abandon. 

Jinyoung was gone, the fantasy of dominating Jaebum easily discarded in place of submitting to him, staring up at him with wide, blown pupils as he fucked him into the matress. The headboard smacked against the wall with every thrust, Jaebum practically folding Jinyoung in half as he leaned down to capture his lips messily. 

Jinyoung's blunt nails dragged red lines down Jaebum's back as his toes curled and his balls tightened, gasping sharply against Jaebum's lips, taken off guard by his own orgasm. Shaking apart, vision blurring and ass clenching around Jaebum's length sparodically, all he could hear through the white-hot bliss was the sound of his own heart beat and Jaebum's harsh grunts of pleasure. 

Feeling Jaebum moving inside him while he climaxed was almost too much, Jinyoung's hands scrabbling for purchase over his skin as he bit his lip hard, oversensitive but desperate for everything Jaebum had left to give. 

He watched with distant eyes as Jaebum gasped, his pace slowing as he thrust deeper, erratically before freezing above him, head thrown back and long neck exposed to Jinyoung's hungry eyes. His cock pulsed inside him as Jinyoung stroked Jaebum's back, down his chest, soothing the bite of his orgasm until he came back down from his high, the older man deflating and collapsing beside him heavily with a guttural sigh. 

Jinyoung felt too heavy to move, too light to think, and Jaebum slung an arm over his waist sluggishly, pulling him close and bringing him back to reality as he looked dazedly into his eyes with an indulgent smile. 

'That wasn't so scary, was it?' 

Jinyoung had always thought people were bullshitting when they talked about compatibility, how sex feels better with the right person, but now he had the undeniable proof. They slotted together like jigsaw pieces, every touch in the right place, every kiss at the perfect sweetness.

Jinyoung had tasted Jaebum now, and he doubted his thirst would ever be quenched.

'Could've been better, but at your age it's probably a stretch to ask for another round.' Jinyoung quipped snootily, yawning and stretching dramatically. It was an invitation to war, and, of course, Jaebum fucked him over and over until he couldn't feel his legs.

The winter sun was setting and painting the room a soft peach by the time they were done, turning Jaebum's hair to amber, and as he lay there, sheets tangled around his feet and Jaebum wrapped around him like a sweaty coat, his heart wouldn't rest. The moment was bittersweet, a fantasy that would end in agony, and Jinyoung could only wish selfishly that the virus would take him first, that he wouldn't have to watch Jaebum waste away.

It was as if he'd unwrapped a gift only to know it was on loan, that he was only renting it, that something or someone could come along and snatch it from his fingertips at any second. 

Jinyoung would hold on until his hands bled.

-

Mark watched the clock tick painfully slowly, counting the seconds until the five minutes left of his shift would run out. Jinyoung had insisted he was too weak to work, but he felt fine - lightheaded and a bit sick, but no worse than usual. He needed to get out and do something, be someone instead of just existing and wasting away. He had a bed, a boyfriend and a job. He was almost normal, and that was good enough for him. 

The past four months with Jackson and Jinyoung and everybody else had been a deep breath of air for his drowning, burning lungs. He had a family again, people who cared about him while he cared about them. Twirling a straw around the rim of an empty glass, he shifted from foot to foot. His shifts were always dead, barely a soul entering unless they were the usual lonely alcoholic regulars looking to find a friend in the bottom of a whiskey glass. 

He had a sneaking suspicion the manager had given him the graveyard shift on purpose, that she'd caught the tremor in his hands when he'd set down his resume, the bags beneath his eyes during their interview. As much as he longed to be busy, he wasn't blind to the fact that his body was aching more lately, that he couldn't find his breath more often than not, that he started most mornings hunched over the toilet. 

Glancing at the clock again, dead on midnight, the door swung open, crisp april air blowing in as Jackson strode up to the counter with a broad smile. Mark beamed, heart thudding as it always did when he saw those twinkling eyes. 

'I didn't know you were coming to pick me up.' 

'Oh, come on Mark, don't tell me you forgot?' 

'Forgot? What?' He asked with a laugh, walking out from behind the bar and grabbing his coat. Jackson spread his arms wide with a stupid grin.

'It's your birthday!' He crooned, excited, and Mark scoffed. 

'My birthday's tomorrow, Jackson.' He flicked off the lights before walking to the door, Jackson striding after him as they left the building. 

'It's exactly one minute past midnight, so technically tomorrow is today, so today is your birthday.' 

Mark just smiled tiredly, ready to fall into bed and far too tired to figure out what Jackson was rambling about. If he wanted it to be his birthday, it was Mark's birthday. 'If you insist.' 

'I do insist.' Mark rolled his eyes, locking up the door behind them and turning to Jackson expectantly. On cue, Jackson pulled him in by his waist, kissing him soundly before it deepened, Mark sighing into the kiss as Jackson walked him back til his head hit the door of the bar, tongues entwining and hands wandering. 

Jackson pulled away breathlessly, smiling cheekily. 'Happy 21st, Mark.'

When they arrived back at Jinyoung's apartment, Mark was genuinely surprised when they opened the door to streamers popping obnoxiously loud, screams of 'Surprise' coming at him from all angles. 

'Good god.' He yelled, clutching his chest in shock before Jinyoung jumped at him, swaddling him in a tight embrace. He pecked him on the cheek before whispering in his ear.

'Told you you'd make it. Now you have to stick around to see me turn 20.' As he pulled away, Mark spared him a sad smile, heart aching. He remembered the words he'd screamed in anger at Jinyoung as he lay on that hospital bed, voicing his fears without a filter in his panic, rambling of how he'd never see 21, how his life was dust now that he was diseased. 

He'd see Jinyoung turn twenty if it was the last thing he did, if only to make up for the hurt he caused him. 

The flat was still a dump, but fairy lights were scattered around the space, beers unopened on the table and music echoing off the walls. Bambam and Yugyeom waved from the sofa where they were entwined, and Youngjae snapped a photo suddenly, blinding him before patting him soundly on the back with a wide smile. 

'Group photo time, guys, squash up!' He bellowed, setting a timer on his camera while Jackson and Jinyoung dragged Mark over to the sofa forcefully, the lot of them squashing together on the small seat. Jaebum was standing awkwardly beside Youngjae as the younger man set the camera up on the coffee table, arms folded, and Jinyoung beckoned him over to no avail. 

Jackson groaned, grabbing a party hat off the table and stomping up to Jaebum, tugging it over his head and letting the strap snap against his chin. Jaebum moved to whack him but Jackson grabbed him in a headlock and pulled him over to the sofa, pushing him down beside Jinyoung who efficiently wrapped himself around him with a grin as the older man glared somberly into the lens. 

Mark chuckled lightheartedly as Jackson sat back down beside him, and Jaebum glanced at him, smiling softly as if they were sharing a secret. 

'Yah, look at the camera guys!' Youngjae hollered, jumping into the frame and stretching himself out along the back of the sofa sensually. Bambam immediately began to eye-fuck the camera, Yugyeom throwing up a peace sign while Jackson pressed a wet, lingering kiss to Mark's cheek, causing him to scrunch his face up in discuss. Jinyoung leaned his head on Jackson's shoulder, arms and legs octopussing Jaebum, who subtly pulled off his hat, placing it on Mark's head instead and smirking at the camera as if it took great effort to participate. 

The flash went off, and the group cheered, a chorus of 'happy birthday' breaking out as Mark flushed beet red. He hated copious amounts of attention. 

A few crates of beer into the morning, Yugyeom remembered he'd baked a cake, stumbling into the kitchen to grab it. Bambam followed him, and a good twenty minutes later they returned covered in frosting with guilt painted over their features, a sad-looking plate of dishevelled sponge cake in Yugyeom's hands. 

Mark just chuckled, while Jackson commented on the frosted handprints on Yugyeom's backside, making the teen blush tomato red while Bambam just winked and shrugged. Jinyoung popped a candle into the tragedy of a cake daintily, lighting it with a grin. 'Make a wish, Mark.' 

They all sat around the table, Mark suddenly reigning king of the sofa somehow, and his cheeks were red from drinking, eyes drooping drunkenly. Jinyoung was watching him closely from where he was sat beside Yugyeom on the floor, as if trying to read Mark's thoughts, and Youngjae quietly sat back, camera rolling. 

The mood had shifted, warm and thick and quiet as everyone slowly succumbed to the sleepy pull of alcohol, and only Jinyoung could guess how sad this moment felt to Mark. Would he ever blow out candles again? 

Jackson squeezed his thigh from his seat beside his knee on the floor, and Mark pulled himself from his thoughts, realising he'd zoned out. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a long time to think even though he knew what he was wishing for, before he leaned forward and blew the candle out, the flat plunging into darkness as the few of them still awake clapped softly. 

Yugyeom and Bambam had drifted off while he was lost in thought, leaning against each other, and Jinyoung was rubbing his eyes sleepily. Jaebum raised his beer, arm slung over Jinyoung's shoulder. 'Happy birthday, Mark.' 

The rest of them joined in the toast, clinking their bottles together while Jackson just tipped his all over himself, mumbled an apology and stumbled haphazardly to the bathroom.

'Sorry we couldn't get you any gifts, moneys tight-' Youngjae began, but Mark shook his head, blinking the wetness in his eyes away. 

'It's fine, really. I'm just... I'm happy to be here. With you guys. That's all I could ask for.'

Jinyoung sniffed loudly from across the table, covering his face immediately as his back shook with repressed sobs as Jaebum pulled him to his chest, fingers combing through his hair soothingly. 

Mark chuckled thickly, voice breaking. 'What are you crying for, idiot? It's supposed to be a happy birthday.' 

'Then don't say sad things, you asshole.' Jinyoung squeaked into Jaebum's sweater, pulling away as his wet eyes gleamed in the moonlight. 'We're gonna live until we're old and gross and die together on a yacht covered in money, like you promised.' 

Mark choked a laugh, sighing shakily, comforted by Jackson's hand on his thigh as he returned to his seat silently. Youngjae was pretending to look through his photographs, Jackson and Jaebum leaning in to observe, as if the moment was for Mark and Jinyoung alone and the rest of them were there to keep them from crumbling to pieces. 

'I never promised anything.'

Jinyoung wiped his eyes sullenly, reluctantly looking Mark in the eye once again. 'What did you wish for?'

'You know telling a wish means it won't come true.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shits gonna get real sad guys


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a killer ;n; one more chapter to go! Thank you so much for commenting c

 

Jaebum awoke to the sound of pencil scratching paper, warmth on his face and birds chattering. He squinted when he opened his eyes, shocked by the rich June sunlight.  Grumbling, he sat up slowly, rubbing at his eyes before they focused on Jinyoung seated at the end of the bed, robe falling off a bare shoulder as he leaned a sketchbook on his knee, watching Jaebum with a smirk.  

Jaebum smiled back lazily, leaning on an elbow and raking his fingers through his disheveled hair.  

'Watching me sleep? How romantic.'  

'It's the only time you stop scowling.' Jinyoung quipped, setting down his pencil now that his model had moved. Jaebum scoffed, stretching out a hand.  

'Let me see.' 

'It's not finished.' Jinyoung pouted, clutching the pad tighter and tensing.  

'Just let me see.' 

'I haven't drawn in a while -'  

'Why the hesitation? What am I gonna do, rip it up?' Jaebum leaned forwards quickly before Jinyoung could retort, snatching the sketchbook with deft fingers and regarding the image etched there while Jinyoung fought to retrieve it.  

Jinyoung had started drawing again lately, but he never showed Jaebum anything, though Jackson said the canvases in Mark's room were beautiful. Jaebum wanted to see everything Jinyoung could do, every passion he had.  

Eventually the younger man stopped fighting him, crashing his head into the pillow in embarrassment and defeat. Jaebum followed the charcoal lines with his eyes, taking in every detailed stroke and dash.  

'Why are you so afraid of me looking? You're talented, Jinyoung.'  

Jinyoung turned his head from where he'd buried it in the pillow, looking up at Jaebum balefully, sulkily.  'Hypocrite. where's that song you promised me?'  

Jaebum sighed, looking over the sketch once again. Honestly he'd been plucking away at strings since the first night he'd seen Jinyoung, lyrics and lines floating around in his mind and dying on his tongue. He could write a thousand songs, but none would be good enough.  

That wasn't the whole of it though, Jaebum knew that - finishing a song somehow felt like taking a step closer to saying goodbye to Jinyoung. In the two months since they'd met, not a day had passed where it hadn't been on his mind, the constant ticking of a clock. Who would go first? Him or Jinyoung?  

'I'm still working on it. I'd get it done faster if you stopped distracting me.' 

Jinyoung quirked a brow, a playful spark in his eyes as he sat up slowly. 'Distracting?' He took his sketchbook from Jaebum's hands, dropping it to the floor before straddling Jaebum over the duvet, robe slipping from his shoulders and opening completely as his lips brushed against Jaebum's. 'How?'  

Jaebum watched him steadily, never growing tired of the sight of Jinyoung disheveled and keen. 'Are you on heat or something? Do you ever get tired?' Jaebum chuckled as Jinyoung nipped at his lower lip before moving to suck at his neck, hand slipping between his bare thighs to palm Jaebum over the duvet.  

'That's rich coming from Mr. Ever-hard.' He tittered, pressing his lips to Jaebum's briefly as his hand shifted more firmly over Jaebum's growing hardness, making him groan throatily against his lips.  Jaebum sat up, gripping Jinyoungs waist and throwing him to the side before covering him with his own weight, making him gasp breathlessly.  

'You'll be the death of me, you know.' Jaebum breathed, leaning above him and watching those brown eyes roaming over his face, wide and thoughtful.  

'Not if you kill me first.' 

 

- 

 

Jackson hadn't felt such stability in a long time. Most people thought he was always fine, always the one smiling with a story to tell, but truthfully he just didn't want anybody to have to worry about him. Seeing Jaebum and Youngjae again, seeing Jaebum smile... it was a weight off his heavy shoulders.  

When he'd left for his internship, he'd left out of guilt. He hadn't been paying rent, and he'd felt like a burden, a leftover from Jaebum's past that wouldn't move from his sofa. Every single day had been empty after he left, empty smiles, empty laughter. People didn't get him the way Jaebum and Youngjae did, didn't understand his humour or his need to impress and comfort people.  

At work they would smile to his face and sneer behind his back; he saw it all but he never showed it, treating everyone as a best friend when he truly felt nothing for them. His family was here, in this apartment, and seeing it grow even bigger made him feel safe and right, secure and grounded.  

Jackson had always been observant, though; noticing a shift in the atmosphere in a second and adjusting to it accordingly, always knowing when a friend wasn't quite okay. He'd noticed Mark faltering a few times over the past few months; how his hands would shake while he read a book at night, how his appetite would wane to the point where Jackson would have to prompt him into eating, or even force feed him; how his body ached more often, how easily he bruised.  

Jackson knew something was wrong before Mark had probably even acknowledged it himself. He also knew the moment Mark knew, the moment Mark realised what it meant, the moment his eyes changed and the lies began to leave his lips.  

It was mid July when he first lied. The summer heat was hitting its peak, the two of them enjoying a day off work in the park. Mark had been absentminded all day, losing track of conversations and dissociating for large lapses of time. He stood to grab an ice cream, and Jackson saw his eyes roll back, watched his legs buckle like he was boneless, felt him heavy and motionless in his arms as he shook him back to consciousness. He'd just smiled up at Jackson blearily, eyes cloudy with thought.  

'It must be the heat.' 

After that, Mark always had an excuse. He didn't want to leave the house because work was too tiring, he didn't want to go to work because he had a headache, he'd stood up too fast so he fainted, he always woke up in a cold, fevered sweat in the summer. 

Jackson never delved deeper, never questioned Mark. If Mark didn't want to tell him, that was his choice - the pain of watching and knowing and not being able to say anything was always there, the nagging voice in the back of his head always asking why Mark didn't trust him enough to tell him, asking why he was scared to share something so important with him. He knew it wasn't that, though. He knew Mark was terrified... too terrified to say it out loud. 

Too terrified to say that he was dying. 

Jinyoung had been in Jaebum's apartment almost constantly, not seeing Mark's condition worsen. He'd commented on how Mark was thinner when they'd gone out for food, had prompted him to eat his meal when he noticed him pushing his food around his plate absentmindedly. It ate Jackson up inside to know and not be able to tell him out of respect for Mark. There was only so long he could hide it, though, only so long Mark could hold onto his denial. 

He'd known for so long, had watched for months as Mark faded to grey, but as he sat holding him against his chest, the train carriage rattling and swaying them side to side as Mark muttered nonsense, trembling profusely and drenched in sweat, he realised nothing could have prepared him for it. He didn't cry, not then, just holding him tightly enough to hurt, whispering stupid jokes into his hair and rocking him back and forth until the tremors subsided, until Mark was himself again and the train had already gone twelve stops further than their station.  

It was then, piggybacking him home, that the fantasy they'd been living was finally shattered, reality slowing Jackson's steps and weighing down Mark's feather-light body. It was late September, the sun burning red as it sank, turning the whole street to burnt copper as crickets chirped in the grass and Jackson's feet hit the asphalt heavily. They were three miles away from home, Mark a dead weight on his back, barely able to keep his arms around Jacksons neck. 

Mark's voice was rough, quiet, as if whispering could make it less true.  

'I don't think I'm okay anymore, Jackson.' 

'You're okay.' 

'I'm dying.' 

'You're not dying.' Jackson breathed, a lump in his throat he just couldn't swallow. 

'Promise me you won't take me to hospital. I want to be at home with you, with everyone. 

'I won't take you to hospital because you don't need one, you're fine.' 

'Jackson, promise me.' 

'Don't make me, Mark, please.' 

Mark sucked in a short, sharp breath, nuzzling into Jackson's neck with wet cheeks. 'I'm scared.' 

'Me too.' Jackson whispered, chuckling without humour. He'd waited so long to hear Mark say it, but now that it was happening it was too real, too raw. 'It's so fucked. I've just met you and you're already saying goodbye. We didn't get to do anything, go anywhere... there's so much more, so many things I could have shown you-' 

'We did everything, Jackson. Everything I wanted. There's still time to do more, just as long as you're with me.' Jackson's shoulder was wet with Mark's tears, his voice wavering on every word. 'I've been so scared of dying alone-' 

Jackson turned his head sharply, wet eyes meeting Mark's red ones intensely. 'Don't say that shit. You have me, you have Jinyoung and everyone else, you'll never be alone.' 

Mark hiccupped on a breath, face crumpling. 'Jinyoung doesn't know. It will break him.' 

'It will break him if you don't tell him, he needs to know. He loves you.' 

'I don't know how.' 

'I'll be with you, from now until the end. You don't have to be scared of anything any more, just hold onto me.' 

Mark sobbed himself into exhaustion, falling asleep on Jackson's shoulder as the sky turned purple and the moths danced around the street lights. Jackson watched his feet taking steps as if they weren't his own, his whole body numb, focusing only on Mark's weight, his arms around his neck and his warm breaths against his ear. 

By the time they were home, there were no more tears left to cry.  

 

- 

 

Jinyoung sat fully clothed in the bathtub, cold water raining down upon him and washing away the sweat he was drenched in. The night fevers were happening more often, making him wake up soaked, having to peel himself away from Jaebum's embrace to sob and shake quietly in the bathroom.   

He bit his lip, trembling, wishing he could get high. He hadn't used since New Year's and he ached for it now, hungry for the numbness, the escape from fear. Jaebum didn't need to see this - this was exactly what he'd been so afraid of before, of having to say goodbye. Jinyoung didn't want Jaebum to watch him die. 

He closed his eyes, skin burning even under the freezing spray, dozing off into fevered dreams so real he could almost feel Jaebum's hands on him, could hear him speaking some nonsense and jostling him around.  

When his heavy eyelids opened again the sun was pale upon him, he was dressed in dry pyjamas and had somehow ended up in bed. He turned his head to the side at the feeling of something wet being pressed to his forehead, and saw Jaebum sitting there, deep bags beneath his bloodshot eyes as he dabbed at him with a wet flannel, lips set in a tight line. 

'What happened?' He asked blearily, tired and still foggy and fevered. Jaebum sighed, brushing Jinyoung's sweaty bangs away from his clammy skin. 

'I heard the shower running and found you passed out, fully dressed.' He looked at Jinyoung for a long moment, seeming to consider his words before he finally spoke again. 'I used to sweat like this, Jinyoung. Are you using again?' 

Jinyoung was confused by Jaebum's accusation, wondering how he came to that conclusion. His lips moved to defend himself, to argue until that look of disappointment and distrust left Jaebum's eyes, but he paused. What was worse, the truth or the lie? How could he tell Jaebum what was really happening? Who was he to make him wait around as he wasted away? It would be so much easier to lie, to have him hate him, to watch him walk away than to look into his eyes and tear his heart out.  

'I...' He hesitated, licking his chapped lips, knowing Jaebum might never touch him so tenderly again, might never kiss him or hold him. Either way he would break Jaebum's heart, but this way the pieces would be easier to fit back together. 'I'm sorry.' 

Jaebum didn't say a word, he just looked at him for the longest moment, a flurry of emotions in his eyes before he stood and left the room. Jinyoung heard the sound of a fist hitting the wall, a restrained shout, and he closed his eyes, letting his fever pull him down into the mattress, into the ignorance of sleep. 

 

- 

 

Jaebum sat on a bench, warm autumn night air blowing through his hair. His nails were bitten to hell, tiny chips of black nail polish clinging stubbornly to what was left, and his copper hair was growing just that bit too long, black roots unattended. He watched the moths dancing around the lamp beside him, wondering absently what was so fascinating about the light, what drew them to the scalding heat and blinding brightness when all he wanted was the comfort of darkness. He'd been too close to the flame already, and here he was, scalded and ruined.  

It had been a week since he'd last seen Jinyoung, since they'd screamed in each others faces, since they'd fucked, scratching and biting and tearing themselves apart as a bitter goodbye. He didn't understand how it had come to this, where it had gone wrong, but he'd been waiting for it since he first saw Jinyoung's face. There was something in his eyes from that first moment and Jaebum knew he would pull him in like a tornado and leave him broken and empty.  

Every breath was an effort, every step a mile. Waking up and not seeing Jinyoung's face soft in slumber, fingers twitching in dreams, unguarded and vulnerable, was like a bullet to his heart. Something about Jinyoung before he left made Jaebum analyze every second they were together, because it wasn't right. There was something he was missing, something important that he just wasn't seeing, and if he wasn't so stubborn he would be at Jinyoung's door in a second begging for an answer because the ache was unbearable.  

He hated himself for the things he'd said, the way he'd let Jinyoung go without a fight. It was as if he was saving himself from the thing he was scared of most, the thing he'd avoided Jinyoung for in the first place. He knew that letting Jinyoung go would spare him the pain of seeing him die, of having to say goodbye for good. He knew that.  

He was a coward. His guitar was still propped against the wall in the living room, untouched, unplayed. It looked like Jinyoung would never get his song. 

Standing on numb legs, he focused his eyes on the grey sidewalk before him as he trudged back to his apartment. Every time he took the stairs he'd stop in front of Jinyoung's apartment, sometimes he'd even raise his hand to knock, but this time, just like every other, he just shook his head and continued to his own floor, steps heavy and loud. 

The apartment was empty - it always was now. Youngjae was busy with his job, and Jackson just wasn't around anymore. He didn't bother turning the lights on, his only thoughts being on getting into bed and sleeping the pain away, of not existing for a few hours.  

The phone rang obnoxiously, and his usual reaction was to ignore it, but something made him answer - the need to hear another voice, or the hope that it was Jinyoung, he didn't know. 

'Jaebum?' It was his father, and his mouth ran dry. Something was wrong, his insides twisting in dread. His tone of voice was off somehow, and Jaebum couldn't respond, just standing there waiting for his father to speak. 'Your mother has asked me to call you. She's been weak since Christmas, but it's time to take her to hospital. She wants to see you.' 

Jaebum's throat tightened, his legs turning to jelly. 'Why... why didn't you tell me sooner?' 

'You would have made it worse. I don't want her to see the state you're in, the disappointment you've become, but she wants you here. If it were my choice, you'd leave us be-' 

Jaebum's hand tightened on the receiver, tears prickling his eyes, and he threw the telephone across the room, the wire pulling from the wall as it crashed onto the floor.  

 

- 

 

Mark watched Jinyoung's eyes well with tears as he told him the news, the understanding and pain and confusion in his face as he absorbed the information. His hands shook in Mark's, breaths fast before they turned to short, choking sobs, and he buried his face in the crook of Mark's neck where he rested against a pillow.  

It had taken a week of convincing from Jackson for him to finally face Jinyoung, paired with the reality that his body couldn't take the stress of hiding it anymore.  He needed Jinyoung now, needed his small smiles and comforting presence. Most of all, he needed to know he was okay. 

There was something wrong, Mark could see it, something that wasn't to do with the news Mark had just delivered, but he knew Jinyoung well enough to know not to pry. If Jinyoung wanted him to know something, he'd tell him. 

'I was planning on lasting until your birthday, but I think that might be too long to hold on.' 

Jinyoung scoffed tearfully, mumbling into the pillow as he slumped on the bed, arms tight around Mark's shoulders. 'I'll kill you if you die on me, I swear to God.' 

'How can you kill me if I'm already dead?' Mark teased, though his voice was thick with tears. 

'I'll find a way, you know I'll find a way.' 

'I know.' 

 

- 

 

'Ok, once more from the top, Bambam-' 

'Do we really have to?' 

'You asked for my help, so I'm helping.' Yugyeom sighed tiredly, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses before readjusting them, eyes scanning a script in his hand. 'And for the thousandth time, the line is "Cyberarts and it's corporate sponsor, Great Communications, would like to mitigate the Christmas Eve Riots...", really what's so difficult-'  

'It just doesn't roll of my tongue,' Bambam groaned, kicking his legs out where he reclined on the sofa. 'I like my version.' 

'You – dressed as a groundhog – to protest the groundbreaking-' 

'-It's a metaphor!' Bambam whined, and Yugyeom just stared at him blankly. 

'It's... less than brilliant.' 

Bambam sat up abruptly, pointing at Yugyeom angrily. 'That's it, Mr. Smart-Ass!' 

'What?' 

'You say I asked you to help? More like you bother me and bother me while I rehearse until I let you ruin my ideas. Ever since Boxing Day I haven't said boo incase it upsets you. I didn't pierce my nipples because it grossed you out, I didn't stay at the gay bar the other night because you wanted to go home-' 

'You were flirting with the man in rubber.' Yugyeom deadpanned, and Bambam threw his hands up in exasperation.  

'That's what you're caught up on? There will _always_ be men in rubber flirting with me! Give me a break!'  

'Are we really having this conversation again?' Yugyeom took his glasses off, throwing the script to the floor and getting to his feet. They hadn't argued in months, so honestly he'd been waiting for it to come. He leaned against the wall, waiting for Bambam to erupt. 

'See, it's this apathy I hate! As if you've heard it all before!' Bambam gesticulated wildly, eyes wide. 'Do you have any idea what I go through, how hard it is for me?' 

'How hard what is, Bam?' 

'This relationship shit! Every single day I walk down the street and there's somebody eyeing me up, I can't help it if ever since puberty every body stares at me; boys, girls, I can't do anything about it!' Yugyeom watched him blankly, always taken aback by the passion with which Bambam would say the dumbest shit. The shorter man walked up to him catlike, eyes teasing, and it never failed to throw Yugyeom off center just how fast he could flip through emotions. 'Who's in your bed at night, Gyeomie? People would kill to be in your shoes.' 

Yugyeom scoffed at his audacity, moving away from the wall before Bambam could wrap himself around him. The shorter man scowled before pouting, catching Yugyeom around the waist. 'Kiss, Gyeomie?' 

 'It won't work.' Yugyeom grit his teeth, ignoring Bambam's attempts at catching his lips. 'Honestly I don't know how we got this far. I hate mess, but I... I love you. God, I like margins, discipline – I make lists in my sleep.' Bambam had frozen the second the L word had left his lips, arms falling from around Yugyeom's waist as he stood before him dumbly while the older man continued in his monologue unaware of Bambam's shock. 

'I have no idea what to do with you, sometimes, no idea why I put up with you playing me around. I know full well I satisfy you, so why compromise?' 

Bambam rolled his eyes, over his momentary hesitation. 'You're a control freak. A snob. Over attentive. A loveable, droll geek.' 

'Anything else you want to say?' 

'Anal retentive.' 

'That's it.' Yugyeom raised his hands in surrender as Bambam folded his arms stroppily. 'I quit.' 

'I'm not changing for you, Yugyeom. Take me for what I am, or leave.' 

'Guess I'm leaving, then.' Yugyeom yelled suddenly, tears stinging his eyes, and Bambam jumped at the sudden display of emotion. He stormed over to the door, slamming it behind him and standing in the stairwell, catching his breath. Realisation dawned on him slowly, and his cheeks reddened at the sound of the door opening behind him, Bambam calling to him softly. 

'How many times are you gonna storm out of your own damn apartment?' 

 

- 

 

Youngjae trudged up the stairs, exhausted from filming all day and ready to fall into bed. As he turned the stairwell, he saw Jackson sitting outside Jinyoung's apartment, head in his hands and small noises echoing in the silent space. 

'Jacks?'  

He jumped visibly, looking up at Youngjae in surprise, and Youngjae's heart sank. He'd never seen Jackson cry. He looked like a different man, pale and wasted, eyes bloodshot and empty. Youngjae didn't say a word, slumping down beside Jackson and pulling him into his arms. The floodgates opened as he clinged to Youngjae's shirt, sobbing hard, and Youngjae knew before Jackson could say a word. 

'Mark, he's...' he breathed through the tears, 'I don't know what to do.' 

Mark was propped up by at least six pillows, cheeks hollow and wrists thin and fragile. The light from his beside lamp cast sharp shadows over his skin, turning him a sickly yellow, yet the glow seemed to emanate from him as well, as if the life leaving him was spilling over and flooding the room. He was asleep, and Jinyoung was running a cube of ice over his dry, chapped lips, looking awful himself. Youngjae was too shocked to move at first, but he forced his legs to walk, sitting beside Jinyoung on a chair they'd moved from the living room. 

'I had no idea.' He breathed, and Jinyoung seemed to only just notice he was there.  

'He didn't want anyone to know. He didn't want us to worry.' His voice was distant, eyes glazed, and Youngjae sighed. 

'How are you?' 

'I've been better.' He muttered, sitting back and placing the ice cube back into a glass on the bedside table. 'I can't believe how fast it gets worse. He was laughing yesterday but he's been asleep for nearly a day.' 

'Shouldn't he be in hospital? He needs an IV, medicine-' 

'He doesn't want to go. he wants us to sit here and watch.' He bit out, wiping at his eyes roughly. 'It's only fair that I have to see this. I did this to him.'  

'You were young, you didn't know. Jesus, you're still young, mistakes just happen.' 

'My whole life has been a mistake.' Jinyoung breathed, eyes wet with tears as his lip trembled. 'When Mark is gone I'll have nothing, nobody. I only just got him back and he's going again.' He shook his head, voice breaking. 'I wasted so much time hurting Jaebum that I didn't even notice my best friend falling apart.' 

Jinyoung crumbled, his face distorted in agony, and Youngjae pulled him to his chest, rubbing circles in his back as he sobbed. 'Jaebum is another story,' He said softly, waiting for Jinyoung's tears to calm and subside. 'Why did you lie to him?' 

'About what?' Jinyoung's voice was small, muffled by Youngjae's shirt. 

'I know you're not using, Jinyoung. Why did you tell Jaebum you were?'  

It took Jinyoung a long moment before he pulled away from Youngjae's embrace, wiping at his wet cheeks as he watched Mark's chest rise and fall slowly. 'I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want to watch him walk away and leave me.'  

'You know he'd never do that. Jaebum's scared but he loves you, you have to know that.' 

'He's never said it. He was all too eager to throw me away.'  

'He's an idiot, but you're a bigger idiot if you can't see how he feels about you.'  

Before Jinyoung could move his lips to respond, Mark stirred, eyes blinking open tiredly as Jackson's name left his dry lips in a breath.  

'I'll go get him.' Jinyoung stood in a rush, hiding his tear-streaked face as he left Youngjae alone. Mark's eyes were unfocused when he turned his head to look at Youngjae with a weak smile, to which Youngjae beamed back.  

'You've never looked better, Mark.'  

Mark chuckled roughly, and his voice was hoarse and splintered. 'How's your film, Youngjae?' 

Nobody asked him about it but Mark, always eager to know, and it touched Youngjae deeply that he still cared. 'In the dust. I have so much work, I don't have time for my own stuff.'  

Mark sighed, eyebrows knitting together sincerely. 'You have to promise me you'll finish it. I won't rest in peace otherwise.'  

A short laugh left Youngjae's lips, barely an echo of his usual boisterous tittering, his throat tightening with emotion. 'That's not fair.'  

Mark clicked his tongue, winking. 'No crying, it's not allowed in here.' Youngjae nodded stiffly, wiping his eyes and taking Mark's hand. 'Being ill isn't so bad, people have to do what I say.' He smirked, and Youngjae snickered. A long moment passed between them, and their smiles fell in the silence. 

'Is there anything I can do, Mark?' The younger man took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  

'Look after Jinyoung, he won't be okay after this.' Youngjae nodded, and Mark thought for a second. 'Bambam and Yugyeom should know, too. I've been unfair keeping this from everybody. I thought it would be easier, but it's been so hard on Jackson, I can tell. He needs you guys, even if he seems okay I know he's not.' He reached weakly for the nightstand, tapping the first drawer. 'There's a box in here, give it to Jinyoung when I'm gone.' 

'Give what to me?' Jinyoung stuck his head through the door with a grin, Jackson following behind looking as if he hadn't shed a tear. To keep Mark from feeling pain, their own was secondary. Mark withdrew his hand quickly, exhanging a quick look with Youngjae before he smirked at the two taking a seat on the end of the bed. 

'A kick in the ass.'  

 

- 

 

Jaebum found out the next day, sick to the stomach to see Mark so changed, so weak; knowing it could be him lying there, or Jackson, or Jinyoung. The younger man was never awake when he visited, but he held his hand while he slept, would told him his worries while Jinyoung took a break.  

Knowing he'd left Jinyoung alone when something so painful was happening destroyed him, his fingers always twitching when he answered the door, wanting to hold him and kiss him and make things okay again. He didn't have that power, though. Be it selfishness or cowardice, Jaebum didn't say a thing, didn't reach out and touch him, didn't tell him he loved him.  

He was weak. 

 

- 

 

The room was dyed purple in the evening light, clouds rolling by outside the floorlength windows, outlined by the setting sun. Sitting on the sofa, Youngjae's hands worked methodically, writing more drafts for his screenplay, cutting and editing the films he'd been shooting here and there and trying to make something work.  

His new job was sucking his soul dry, leaving him no time to work on his own film like Mark had urged him to. He hadn't told anyone what he was actually making - no one asked but Mark, and even he didn't know exactly what Youngjae was doing.  He'd sneaked his camera around everywhere, getting shots of everyone whenever he could.  

Because he knew they'd be gone soon. Soon it would be just him - alone, with just this film to keep him company where his friends would have been.  

As his hands worked, his mind drifted, lingering on thoughts of who he was, what he had, where he'd be in the next few years. All his friends were sick, and not a single plan included the sound of their laughter or the comfort of their dysfunctional company.  

He fought himself not to dwell on it, pulling himself from his thoughts as he usually did. If he just kept snipping at his film and writing more screen directions, if he kept himself distracted, he wouldn't feel the pain. 

 

- 

 

Jackson clutched Mark's hand tightly as he dozed between wakefulness and slumber, running ice over his chapped lips as he mumbled incoherently. Jackson hadn't stopped saying _I_ _love you_ since Mark had woken up that day, something telling him that soon Mark wouldn't hear his whispers anymore.  

Jinyoung was a mess, skeletal and pale where he'd expired at Mark's bedside, folded over in exhausted slumber on the sofa. Jaebum had visited a few times, holding Jackson as he cried while Mark slept or simply sitting across from Jinyoung in dead silence, neither of them uttering a word unless Mark spoke.  

Youngjae visited often, always equipped with a wide smile and a laugh. Even Bambam and Yugyeom came around a few times, still flip-flopping between love and hate and leaving flowers with every visit that were now crisp and decaying, dead petals littering the bedside table.  

In just a few months Mark had touched the lives of everyone he'd met, in his small gestures of compassion, his quiet consideration. Jackson hadn't lived until he'd seen his face that night in the alleyway, hadn't loved until he'd kissed him in the cafe.  

Jinyoung was still asleep when Mark had finally given up. Jackson lay in the bed beside him, watching his eyes move beneath his eyelids before they opened blearily, struggling to focus upon Jackson's face. He smiled like Jackson was the sun, and Jackson could almost fool himself into believing nothing was wrong, that he was okay, that his fever had broken and their time wasn't up. Mark murmured some nonsense, and Jackson leaned in closer to hear him, desperate to know whatever Mark had to tell him.  

All he could catch from Mark's dry lips were the words ' _I_ _l_ _ove you_ ' before his thin wrist went limp in Jackson's hand, the reality not hitting Jackson for a long minute before his world fell apart, holding Mark's lifeless body to his chest and sobbing. It didn't feel real, and he laughed through the tears, telling Mark all the things he loved about him, every funny little thing he did as if he would wake up and mock his sappy words. 

Jinyoung woke soon after, taking in the scene before him with wide eyes before he broke entirely and Jackson pulled him to his chest desperately to calm his heart wrenching wails. His trembling hands gripped at him wildly, clinging to him as if it would stop his world from shaking, and all Jackson could do was kiss the top of Jinyoung's head and tell him it was over now, that Mark was free of pain, surrounded by love.  

It was better to say goodbye in peace, than hello in pain. 

 

- 

 

Jinyoung cleared out Mark's room after they took his body away, dizzy and empty to the core. Youngjae stood in the doorway, watching, and when Jinyoung caught his gaze he smiled sadly, nodding to the bedside drawer.  

'He told me to tell you... he left something for you in there. If you need anything, I'll be around, Jinyoung. Always.' 

Jinyoung's mouth was too dry to answer properly, and all that left his lips was a dry 'thank you,' walking numbly over to the older man and embracing him tightly. He didn't notice the way Youngjae's hand lingered on the protruding notches of his spine, the worried look he departed with.  

The silence after Youngjae was gone left Jinyoung bereft, as if he'd gone deaf. It was worse than when he'd lived alone; now it was as if the cars had stopped outside, the neighbours next door had stopped screaming and shouting, even his own breaths seemed muffled and distant.  

After a long moment his legs moved of their own accord, heavy steps drawing him closer to the bedside table, and his hands shook as he opened the top drawer. Inside was a shoe box with his name scrawled on top, and he removed it, sitting on the bed and taking off the lid as his heart thudded loud and dull in his ears.  

His chest tightened at the sight within, pictures from when they were together, from when they were at school. Covering his mouth as his tears fell,  he sifted through the photographs in mute agony. He'd always loved disposable cameras, snapping pictures of Mark to piss him off whenever he could, and he laughed through his tears at some of the stories the photos told, the memories behind them. Mark had always been camera-shy. 

As he looked through the photographs, the pile began to deplete, and beneath he found all the scribbles and scrawlings he'd once thrown away. Mark had kept every one. Every single one. Sketches on the back of crumpled receipts, bus tickets, napkins; caricatures of their teachers he'd show Mark after class to make him giggle.  

Swiping at the wetness on his cheeks, his blurry eyes fell upon a letter at the bottom of the box, folded neatly with his name written in Mark's messy font. He was almost scared to open it, as if reading Mark's words would finalise everything, as if it would make his death a reality rather than the nightmare Jinyoung felt he was wading through.  

 _Jinyoung_ _, if you're reading this, I've croaked. I know you're blaming yourself, and I know you won't listen to me if I tell you to stop, but even so – I don't blame you for anything._  

 _I don't blame you for cracking my tooth when we first kissed. I don't blame you for mixing the peroxide wrong and making my hair fall out_ _when you first dyed it for me_ _. I don't blame you for throwing up all over my prom suit because you were nervous, meaning we had to miss the prom altogether and just get stoned in my bedroom watching the whole Lord of the Rings trilogy_ _until 4am – without subtitles, while you made me translate the whole thing_ _. I don't blame you for being the best friend I ever had, the most beautiful person I've ever met, or the loudest snorer I've ever slept with. I don't blame you for what happened between us, and I certainly don't blame you for what's happened to me._  

 _I won't ask you to do anything for me, I'm dead so what's the point – you didn't listen to me when I was alive anyway, and when I was alive I could kick your ass so what power do I have over you now? Even so, the last time I left you... you didn't cope well. I won't be coming back this time. I can't fix you again._  

 _So please, for me, don't break._  

 _You are my whole heart._  

 _Mark._  

 

By the sixth time Jinyoung had read it, the ink was barely legible, the paper trembling in his grip as the words bled out from the dampness of his falling tears.  


	6. Six

Nobody was dressed up for the funeral, because really, none of them had anything fancy to wear, and Mark wouldn't have cared anyway. The priest didn't seem too overjoyed to host them, scowling as he led the wake before he shuffled to the side to allow for speeches.  

 

Jackson was the first to stand, eyes bloodshot and tired as they swept over the small gathering of friends. It was just the six of them and the priest in the small church, Mark's family not even bothering to attend. For once Youngjae didn't have his camera rolling, and even Bambam looked shaken and raw, head bowed while Yugyeom sat apart from him, sparing nervous glances towards him every few moments.  

 

Jinyoung and Jaebum hadn't spoken a word to each other even since Mark's passing, the older man seated a few rows behind the younger, and his eyes never left the back of his head. Jinyoung looked like the ghost of his usual self, a shadow, pale and lost as he rested against Youngjae´s shoulder, watching Jackson stand before them and shakily begin to speak. 

 

´From the beginning I knew the time I'd share with Mark would be short, but it was worth every second. You´ve all seen me laugh long before he was around, but nobody made me feel like laughing like he did, nobody made me want to smile so sincerely.  

 

'For someone so quiet it was like he had the loudest voice in the room, as if everything would go silent as soon as he started to speak, because we knew he had something to say that was worth listening to.  

 

'He never wanted attention, never wanted us to make a big deal about him, but he was always there in the shadows to look after us and warm us with his small acts of kindness. At night he'd tell me how happy he was to be with us, to be loved by us and to have us to love. We were his family, because lets face it – blood really isn't thicker than water, we can all attest to that. I told him I loved him a thousand times, and even if this disease hadn't loomed over us I would've said it a million times just because I needed him to know.  

 

'To talk of God and heaven wouldn't feel right for me, you know? Because if we think of heaven, we have to believe in hell – which, apparently Mr. Priest, is where we belong, which is why you're looking at me like that, right? I refuse to believe someone as bright, as caring and loving and beautiful as Mark could deserve anything less than happiness, so rather than believing in any religious idea, of any paradise or afterlife, I'll say he's just gone. Not that he's gone to a better place, but that he's free, free of pain and suffering, and that in his last moments he knew we loved him, that he had nothing to regret.  

 

'I'd be lying if I said this didn't hurt. It hurts so deeply I can't even put it into words and honestly I... I don't know what to do with all the pain, with the ache in my chest, but I'll figure something out, because Mark would kick my ass if he knew I'd given up over this. He'd kick all our asses, we all know he could. He was the strongest of all of us, and I think every one of us can remember some small show of love or affection he gave when we most needed it, when nobody else was there to keep us going.  

 

'He wrote something he wanted me to read to you guys. He was freaking out over every tiny detail and asking me whether it was good enough or not, so you all better appreciate how much heart he put into this. 

 

 _'_ _Jaebum_ _,'_   

 

'So even at the end he didn't use 'hyung.'' Jaebum muttered, drawing a murmur of laughter from them all, even Jinyoung cracking a smile through his tears.  

 

 _'_ _Jaebum_ _,_ _I know you hate these kinds of things, but_ _t_ _ough shit. I've watched everyone enough to see how much they love you, and if you could just relax for a moment and let them, you wouldn't be in so much pain. From the start we had some unspoken respect for one another, and somehow I feel as though I ended up closer to you in such a short space of time than even_ _Youngjae_ _and Jackson. Don't let time slip away from you the way it did for me, not with so many things unfinished and so many words unsaid. The best family you'll ever have are right before you, don't let your real family confuse you, because you're worth love and I know full well you're capable of giving it if you just let go of the pain inside you. On a less soppy note, I know you're probably muttering about me not calling you_ _hyung_ _even from_ _beyon_ _d_ _the grave, but_ _you didn't kick my ass the first time I dropped the honorific so I just rolled with it.'_  

 

Jaebum scoffed, though anyone who looked could see the moisture in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders as the words sank into him. 'Cheeky little shit.' 

 

 _'_ _Bambam_ _,_ _Yugyeom_ _– I wrote yours together because I can't see you any other way. As dysfunctional as you are, you keep us all laughing because you're perfect in your imperfections._ _Yugyeom_ _, you don't have to_ _fit the_ _mould_ _yo_ _ur parents_ _set out for you_ _, and there's nothing wrong with being a crybaby.'_  

 

Yugyeom chuckled, which was more of a whimper from beneath his scarf,pulled up to hide his face and disguise the fact that he was, in fact, crying profusely.  

 

 _'_ _Bambam_ _, I can see you behind your confidence, I can see your fear and apprehensions and it's time you let someone else see, because there's nothing wrong with being fragile. You don't have to be strong all the time, and keeping people at a distance will leave you lonely when you need company most._ _Yugyeom's_ _waiting for you to say a few words to him, though he'll never ask. Don't make him wait too long.'_  

 

Bambam looked quizzical, taken off guard by Mark's note, and Yugyeom looked just as surprised at the mention of his name, the two exchanging a quick glance before looking away from each other awkwardly. 

 

 _'_ _Youngjae_ _, your smile was like a painkiller, even before I got truly ill. Even though you're so bright, you_ _let yourself_ _fade into the shadows so easily it's hard to_ _remember_ _how brilliantly you_ _can_ _shine. We see you, even if you don't feel like we do – so don't ever think you're unappreciated. If you keep smiling the way you do and keep laughing that big, brilliant laugh, you'll never be_ _lonely. You care so deeply about all of us, and we feel it even if nobody says so. You're_ _irreplac_ _e_ _able_ _, priceless, and_ _Jaebum_ _doesn't hate you like he pretends to -_ _n_ _ot even close._ _Show_ _them the film when you're done, and drink that shitty champagne I like. I'll taste it.'_  

 

Youngjae's shoulders were trembling with repressed sobs, clutching Jinyoung's hand tightly as he wiped away his tears with a sad smile. Jackson set the note Mark had written down, taking another deep breath before he continued his own speech. 

 

'I thought Mark was an angel when we first met, when he found me in that alleyway. He was a Christian, or I would've insisted on a cool Viking send off, y'know? But I guess this is more appropriate – like he's gone back to heaven, where he was supposed to be after all.  Jinyoung, do you still want to say a few words?' Jackson asked softly, voice finally breaking, and Jinyoung raised his head for the first time since sitting down, tears streaking his red cheeks as he nodded, getting to his feet shakily.  

 

Jackson patted his back gently as they passed before sitting beside Jaebum and running a hand over his face, the older man pulling him to his side roughly in comfort. Jinyoung cleared his throat, sniffling before he looked upon the small gathering. 

 

'It's Halloween today, which was Mark's favourite holiday. He'd always want to make pumpkins then throw a fit because he couldn't make one as good as mine, and in the end he'd just stab it to death and throw it in the trash. I'd always pull it back out – this mangled, crushed, pockholed mess, and display it anyway.  

 

'He was my closest friend - my only friend, for a long time. He gave me everything and asked for nothing in return, and it's not fair that someone as intelligent, as caring as him should die from something like this. How can this disease take so much from us?' He paused for breath, every word laced with tears.  

 

'What we had for those short few months was what Mark had wanted his whole life; love, acceptance, a family he could care for in his own quiet way. Our time with him was too short, but he was happy with every second of it, I know that.' He wiped at his streaming tears, shaking his head.  

 

'At the very least, I can take comfort in the fact I'll see him again soon enough.' He stepped down from the altar, distantly pacing back to his seat beside Youngjae, who looked upon him in anguish as he pulled him into a tight embrace, Jinyoung's sobs muffled against his chest. 

 

Things had shifted so far apart in such a short amount of time, and none of them had left without feeling a tremor.  

 

- 

 

Youngjae walked alone through the graveyard after the ceremony, still shaken from the sight of Mark's coffin being let down into the ground. There was something so wrong about him being in there, in the dark covered in soil, another headstone amongst hundreds.  

 

Mark's words had cut him deeply, tearing him through to the core until the thoughts he endlessly repressed came spilling forth in abundance. How did they get here? How did everything change so quickly? His life had been stagnant for so long, a constant state of stillness where only he and Jaebum existed, gathering dust in the cold of their apartment as the phone rang and echoed in the silence.  

 

Mark was the glue that bound them together, that solidified the tenuous friendships that had emerged over that fateful Christmas break. Without him, they were splintering and fraying, falling away to ash, losing themselves once again in their own miseries and troubles. 

 

But where was Youngjae in this picture? Despite what Mark had said, he knew he was just an observer with a camera, filming the pain of the people he loved until the film ended. And when the film ended, he'd be truly, truly alone.  

 

- 

 

Yugyeom stood awkwardly before Mark's grave, the soil still freshly overturned. They'd all pitched in towards the headstone, a simple chunk of granite engraved simply in a cursive script. 

 

 _'Mark Tuan, Our Angel.'_  

 

It was odd how Mark made him feel so comfortable even though he had no connection to anyone in the group other than Bambam. When he was around there was always someone happy to see him, someone to talk to when he felt like the awkward tag-along; even when he and Bambam were having a tiff, it wasn't unusual to see the gang without him, and sometimes Mark would even insist on Yugyeom being there. Now, he was just Youngjae's ex-boyfriends ex-boyfriend.  

 

Youngjae had wandered off momentarily while Bambam and Jinyoung chatted softly and Jaebum and Jackson sat on the grass in silence, as if they didn't need to speak to understand what the other was feeling. He wondered how that felt, being close enough to someone to actually understand them, to know what they were thinking instead of having to guess and wonder and fret. 

 

Yugyeom looked up as Youngjae came back into view looking glum, an expression on his face so far from the usual cheeriness he displayed that it was unnerving. He offered a small smile to him, and Youngjae winked half-heartedly, pulling him into a short, solid hug when he reached him before pulling away with a pat on the back. Yugyeom realised that maybe he wasn't the only one who was lost. 

 

At Youngjae's return, Jinyoung and Bambam stopped talking amongst themselves to look his way, and Jaebum got to his feet. Tentatively they regrouped, Jackson still resting thoughtfully on the ground beside Mark's headstone as everybody else looked awkwardly at each other.  

 

Jinyoung's voice was broken and raw like sandpaper, barely audible as he crossed his arms tightly as if to protect himself. 'You sold your guitar?' He looked at Jaebum for the first time since they'd met up that morning, and Jaebum simply stared for a long time before he replied in a mumble. 

 

'Yeah. I'm going back home for a while to clear some things up.'  

 

'I guess I'll never get to hear that song, then.' He smiled sadly, tentatively, and Jaebum frowned, dropping his eyes to the ground as his tone turned cold and sharp. 

 

'There is no song anymore.' 

 

'Jesus, he just lost his best friend-' Bambam interjected, and Yugyeom felt his blood boil. 

 

'-Don't interrupt.' 

 

'I wasn't talking to you.' Bambam sneered, rolling his eyes, and Yugyeom threw his hands in the air in frustration, looking to Youngjae for support. 

 

'We used to have this same argument all the time. He gave an inch and I gave a fucking mile.'  

 

'I know how that feels.' Jinyoung muttered, glaring at Jaebum, though it was a look filled with everything but hatred. 'Being thrown away whenever things get tough, knowing they'll give up on you at the slightest sign of weakness.' Jaebum just scoffed, shaking his head with a humourless smile, and Yugyeom couldn't keep his words from falling from his lips. 

 

'I'd be willing to die for what Mark had – someone to live for, someone unafraid to say _I love you_.' 

 

Bambam's eyes went wide, and Yugyeom hid his face in his hands to hide the tears threatening to spill over. Just once he wanted to get angry and not cry. 

 

'It's amazing how difficult those three words can be for some people.' Jinyoung bit out, staring Jaebum down, and Yugyeom could relate to the pain expressed so visibly in his brown eyes. 

 

Jaebum finally had enough, meeting Jinyoung's gaze sternly as his jaw tightened. 'Your words are rich, Jinyoung, but you'll never know real love unless you love yourself. I should know.'  

 

Jinyoung flinched from the comment as if he'd been physically wounded, faltering before he could respond, and Jackson cut through the animosity with anguish in his voice, getting to his feet suddenly.  

 

'Do you think you could put your differences aside today of all days? For my sake, save it for another time.' Guilt ripped through Yugyeom, and the rest of them looked just as ashamed, eyes trained on the floor as Jackson sighed. 'I can't believe you're going, Jaebum. God, I can't believe he's gone. Mark believed love could work, that it was something good. It's a shame you all disagree.' 

 

At that, the priest appeared from the church, beckoning Jackson inside. As he left,  the weight of his words hung heavily over them, barely a breath to be heard. Jinyoung didn't linger, casting one last pained glance at Jaebum, who stubbornly looked away, before storming away, and Jaebum walked the other way. Youngjae just sighed heavily and followed after Jackson, shrugging at Bambam and Yugyeom as he passed with a small, tired smile. 

 

It didn't take long for Bambam to sidle up beside him, voice as sweet as honey.  

 

'Gyeomie? Are you still mad?' Yugyeom had his jaw clamped tightly shut, avoiding his pleading gaze. 'I miss you.'  

 

Crossing his arms, he rolled his eyes, turning to the younger man reluctantly. 'You didn't miss me when you were making out with my cousin in the bathroom at my birthday party though, did you?'  

 

'What do you want from me, Gyeomie?' Bambam pouted, and Yugyeom scoffed, incredulous.  

 

'Commitment, Bam. I don't know why you waste your energy, why you waste my time with this thing we have – I won't even call it a relationship, because it's far from that. I can't do it anymore, this push and pull... I need structure.'  

 

Bambam giggled coyly, pulling at Yugyeom's scarf. 'Is that all? Why didn't you just say that?' 

 

'What?' Yugyeom was baffled, thrown through a loop and overwhelmed the same way he always was when Bambam got him all mixed up. It was what he was best at. 

 

'That you wanted commitment. How was I supposed to know?'  

 

'What does that mean?'  

 

'I'm all yours, until you get sick of me.' Bambam breathed, inching closer, and Yugyeom had always been weak to those lips. They kissed, different to how it usually was, as if Bambam actually meant it, but the younger man pulled away suddenly with a hiss. 'Ouch!' 

 

'What's wrong?' 

 

'Nothing.' 

 

'You said ow...What?' 

 

'Well, you bit my tongue.' 

 

'No, I didn't.' 

 

'You did, I'm bleeding.' 

 

'No, you're not.' 

 

'I think I should know.' 

 

'Let me see-' 

 

'-Oh, you don't believe me!' 

 

'I was only trying to- Oh, shut up.' Yugyeom sighed, tugging Bambam in for a long, rough kiss. If there was one thing he'd learned from Mark, it was that life was too fucking short. 

 

- 

 

'Off the premises now, we give no handouts here.' The priest hissed, addressing Jackson with distaste.  

 

'What happened to Rest In Peace?' Youngjae muttered, and that hawkish gaze was suddenly upon him.  

 

'All of you, off the premises. This isn't a place for sodomites and junkies.' He spat, and Youngjae almost laughed in his face in astonishment, astounded beyond words. Jackson just looked tired, bone weary, the usual spark in his eyes completely gone. 

 

'It's fine, Youngjae, I'll handle it.' 

 

He moved to argue, but Jackson was already walking away with the priest, back bowed and footsteps heavy. Youngjae kicked at the dirt beneath his feet, heart heavy at the sight of Jackson so removed and spiritless. He felt powerless, completely useless in aiding the pain his friends were going through. 

 

As he made his way home, tugging his scarf up to his nose to ward off the biting chill of the night, it dawned on him how truly out of place he was. At what point had he fit in with these people? When had he ever belonged with them? All he was to Jaebum was a housemate and a nuisance, and Jackson was a friend by proxy. He truly had no one. 

 

Throwing his jacket on the sofa, he closed the door softly behind him, hearing movement from Jaebum's bedroom. The door was ajar, and as Youngjae peeked inside he watched the older man throwing clothes into a duffel bag haphazardly, his shoulders tense and his face as cold as granite. 

 

'So you're really leaving, huh?' 

 

Jaebum jumped slightly, acknowledging Youngjae in his doorway with vague surprise before he continued to pack. 'I have to.' 

 

'How could you let him go?' 

 

'Don't start, Youngjae. I can't do this now.'  

 

'Will you ever stop escaping your problems?' Youngjae tried, aching for Jaebum to stay. 'Don't let Mark's death be in vain-' 

 

'His death is in vain.' 

 

'Are you insane? There's so much to care about, there's me - there's Jinyoung!' 

 

Jaebum paused at the mention of Jinyoung's name before balling a shirt up roughly and shoving it deep into his bag, scowling. 'Jinyoung has his own baggage.' 

 

'So do you.' 

 

'Who are you to tell me what I know, what to do?' Jaebum growled suddenly, looking Youngjae in the eye for the first time, and Youngjae was taken aback, voice faltering as if Jaebum had punched him in the stomach. 

 

'A _friend_.' 

 

'But who, Youngjae, are you?' He gestured roughly to Youngjae, stepping forward. 'You _hide_ in your work, you take on other peoples problems to keep _yourself_ safe, to make yourself feel _useful_.' 

 

'What am I hiding from, exactly?' Youngjae breathed, awaiting the verbal punches Jaebum would throw, punches he didn't know whether he could withstand. 

 

'From facing your failure, facing your loneliness, facing the fact you live a lie. You thrive on being numb with that big fake smile, pretending to create and observe when you really detach from feeling alive!' Jaebum was close now, close enough that Youngjae could see his bloodshot eyes, the bags beneath them, the shadow of stubble on his jaw. 

 

'Maybe it's because I'm the one of us who'll survive.' He grit out, tears stinging his eyes in his pain and frustration, his stomach turning as if the floor had fallen out from beneath his feet and left him floating. Jaebum just smirked venomously, looking at him for a long moment before turning away. 

 

'Poor baby.' 

 

'Jinyoung still loves you, are you really angry at him or just afraid that he's weak?'  

 

Jaebum stopped walking back to his suitcase, a deep breath leaving his lips. 'He... he did look pale.' It was a whisper, a thought he'd spoken, but Youngjae heard it, intent on making Jaebum wake up. 

 

'Jinyoung's got thinner, he's running out of time and you're running out of the door.' 

 

'I have to go, Youngjae.' Jaebum snapped, eyes pleading rather than angry, but Youngjae didn't understand the meaning there, couldn't comprehend the necessity for Jaebum's disappearance. The older man grabbed a few more things, zipping his bag shut hastily and storming past Youngjae.  

 

'Hey, for somebody who's always been let down, who's the one running away?' Youngjae called after him as he made for the front door, hands shaking and heart thumping. Jaebum stopped with his hand on the knob, eyes like flint as he stared at Youngjae. 

 

'For someone who longs to fit in, who's with his camera, alone?' Jaebum twisted the handle, taking a step to go, then stopped, turning to Youngjae again. He looked tired, defeated. 'I'll call.'  

 

- 

 

Jinyoung's breath caught in his lungs as Jaebum's eyes landed upon him, emotion there he couldn't hide fast enough. 'You heard?' He breathed, and Jinyoung willed his voice not to break.  

 

'Every word.' Somehow he couldn't handle the idea of leaving without saying goodbye to Jaebum, but when he'd plucked up the courage to walk up to his door, overhearing the argument, his heart had ached to hear that he didn't have the same problem. Jaebum was going to leave him without a word, without so much as a glance. It tore through him like a knife, and he choked on his words as they stood in the hallway, voices echoing down the stairwell.  

 

'You don't want baggage without lifetime guarantees, I understand that. I know you don't want to watch me die.' Jinyoung took a shaky breath, his head swimming as his legs began to tremble. 'I just came to say goodbye.' 

 

Jaebum didn't say a word, and Jinyoung almost thought he was going to hold him when he took a step closer, but he just took one last lingering look and strode by him, slinging his bag onto his back as he pounded down the steps and left a draft in his wake that chilled Jinyoung to the bone.  

 

'And that I love you.' He breathed to the silence, tears dampening his cheeks as his legs finally wavered and gave way. Youngjae was behind him in a flash, catching his weight before he could fall, but Jinyoung flinched from his touch.  

 

'Don't touch me, please - I'm scared, Youngjae, I'm scared. I need to go somewhere, somewhere else.' 

 

Youngjae looked heartbroken, eyes red-rimmed as he ushered Jinyoung into his apartment. 'I know a place – a clinic...' 

 

'I can't afford a clinic.'  

 

'I'll pay.' 

 

Jinyoung frowned, shaking his head as Youngjae pulled a blanket around his shoulders – he hadn't realised he'd been shaking until now, too wrapped up in Jaebum to notice how cold he'd become. 'Why?' 

 

'I promised Mark I'd take care of you, Jinyoung. Besides, I can't just watch you waste away, not after Mark.' 

 

Jinyoung looked at Youngjae for a long moment, words dying on his tongue in his exhaustion, simply nodding his thanks before he wandered over to the window. He could see Jaebum striding down the street, hunched over as his feet crushed the leaves stacked in the gutters.  

 

'You know, it's my birthday today, and I've lost two of the people I've ever cared about.' Jinyoung croaked, 'I guess it's goodbye love, hello disease.' 

 

- 

 

Jaebum pressed his head to the window of the taxi, watching the rain cascade down the pane rhythmically. It was pouring, the lights blurred red and green in the wet glass as the cab took him somewhere he wished he'd never have to go again.  

 

Looking at Jinyoung made his own bones ache, the shade of his skin and the pallor of his face so different to the Jinyoung he'd first met. He'd noticed at the funeral, of course, but there was something about tonight that seemed worse, as if he'd finally let go, as if he'd given in entirely to the pain inside him.  

 

The longing to pull him into an embrace and kiss away his agony was unbearable, suffocating, but he couldn't, not right now. He hated himself so entirely, down to his very core for what he'd put Jinyoung through, frustrated with the fact he'd refused to see it sooner.  

 

Jinyoung wasn't using – he was _dying_. And Jaebum was only pushing him towards the end. 

 

- 

 

The apartment was like a morgue, cold and still and silent with only the sound of Youngjae's slippered feet scuffing the laminate to signify any life still existing there. Every day was a drag, using a company camera to record bullshit for the masses, his own film still woefully unfinished even as November crept to an end. Jaebum hadn't called once, and Youngjae was beginning to wonder if he'd ever come back. 

 

Jackson had gone back to his old apartment a few cities over without much of a goodbye, just a sad pat on the back and an apology. Youngjae felt like he was living with ghosts. 

 

He guessed, in the end, he should get used to the silence. 

 

- 

 

Jaebum's battered Dr. Marten's squeaked as he trudged through the hospital ward, a bouquet of cheap flowers clutched tightly in his shaking fist. As he approached the room he was heading for, he saw his father leave with a doctor, and Jaebum ducked behind a wall until they passed him, slipping into the room unseen.  

 

Closing the door behind him, he took a breath as the smell of his mothers favourite perfume filled his nostrils and filled him with nostalgic warmth. It was deathly silent, only the sound of the machines whirring and beeping to interrupt his inner panic.  

 

Turning, he braced himself, the wrapping on the flowers crinkling in his tight grip, and his heart thudded at the sight of her. Even in illness she looked beautiful, poised and pale propped up on pillows and staring out of the open window as the curtains swayed in the slight Autumn breeze. 

 

Her hair was thinner than it used to be, hanging loose and framing her sharp features, the way she used to wear it when he was a child. He took slow, quiet steps towards her bed and sat in the chair beside her, catching her attention. She turned to him in surprise before smiling politely, as if she'd never seen him before. 

 

'Can I help you?' She asked pleasantly, and the sound of her voice was something Jaebum had missed achingly. Every time he saw her he'd fool himself into believing she was the same, that she'd see his face and know who he was, hold him in her warm, homely embrace.  

 

'Sorry to disturb you – do you know what the date is?' Jaebum asked formally, as he always did. His mother looked confused for a moment, but her kind smile never faded. 

 

'November 30th. My son started kindergarten today – we had to wait to enroll him because he gets so ill every now and then, like me. I'm just resting before I pick him up from school.' 

 

'Yes, I'm his new homeroom teacher.' Jaebum lied, watching his mothers face light up, beaming her squinting smile. 'He mentioned your difficulties, so I came to wish you health.' He raised the flowers, deformed at the stem from his nervous grip, placing them on the bedside table. 

 

'Oh, how kind of you! He's a good boy, but I worry about him. Sometimes he finds it hard to connect to others.' 

 

'He seemed to be doing well today – he made friends easily, and I think he might even have a crush.' Jaebum winked, making his mother chuckle before her smile waned to a look of resigned, weary sadness. 

 

'I'm glad that somebody is watching over him. It's been difficult, with my illness – I can't support him as much as he needs. Jaebum's never been quite what his father wanted him to be, but nothing makes me happier than hearing him sing when he thinks I'm not listening, plucking away at my old guitar.' She sighed, eyes falling to her fidgeting hands. 'If my husband would just let him be as brilliant as I know he can be...' 

 

Jaebum's eyes were wet, heart tightening painfully, and his mother turned to him with worry when she noticed his condition. 'Oh, dear – what's wrong?' She reached for his hand, and he took it, slender and delicate in his larger palm. She squeezed his fingers comfortingly, a strength in her grip she shouldn't have in her condition, a testament to the strength she'd had in her youth. 

 

'Sorry, I don't mean to bother you. I'm just going through a tough break up and lost my thoughts for a moment.' 

 

She sighed, gazing at him with sympathetic eyes. 'Tell me whatever you need to get it off your chest, I'm a good listener. I get lonely sitting around all day, it's nice to have someone to talk to.' 

 

For a moment Jaebum hesitated, but his heart took over his minds worries, allowing himself the solace of his mothers counsel. It had been so long since she'd been well enough to hear the words he was rambling at her bedside as her eyelids drooped and nonsense spilled from her confused lips.  

 

'I... I met someone, but I was too scared to trust them. I left them alone when they needed me the most and I don't know if I have enough time to make it up to them.'  

 

'Does she love you?'  

 

He took a deep breath before he replied, finding strength in the dark knowledge that she wouldn't remember his words.  

 

'I think he does.'  

 

She raised an eyebrow with interest before smiling kindly, eyes like crescent moons. 'Then what's there to hesitate about? Nothing lasts forever, you have to take everything you can before its all over, Jaebum.' 

 

Jaebum looked her dead in the eye, frozen with shock at the clarity there, and she winked. 'Don't tell your father, sweetheart. Sometimes I'm here, sometimes I'm not, but I'll always be here for you. You know, I always had a feeling you were different, even when you were small. I waited so long for you to tell me; I didn't want to embarrass you by asking, and I knew your father would never approve. Tell me about him, is he handsome?' She cooed, stroking his palm as his face crumpled with tears, a smile tugging at his lips even through his sobs, and he nodded.  

 

'Yeah. He's very handsome. You'd like him a lot, he's sneaky like you.'  

 

He indulged in his mothers bout of clarity before she grew tired, kissing her forehead as she fell into a fevered dream. There was nothing he could control, it was clear to him now, that death does as it pleases. All the time he'd missed with his mother because he was afraid, all the words she couldnt say, that his father kept him from hearing – he couldn't let this happen with Jinyoung; he couldn't miss another second that he might have left to share with him.  

 

As he stood to leave, his blood ran cold at the sight of his father standing in the doorway with a  face like thunder. His whole life people had said how much he looked like his mother, and his mother always laughed at how uncannily he resembled his father when he was angry. He could see the similarities now, the way their jaws grinded when they were angry, how oppressive their auras were. He didnt want to be anything like this man.  

 

'I told you to call me before you arrived. What have you said to her? It was your mouth that made her ill in the first place, I won't have you in here making her worse without my supervision.'  

 

Jaebum just laughed bitterly, watching his fathers face redden as he strolled past him, turning on his heel as he left the room. 'You know, she didn't care that I wanted to leave – she understood. It was you that did this to her, all the medicine you gave her to cure the anxiety she never had, and the medicine to cure the sideffects of that medicine. To think I was ever scared of you...'  

 

His dad strode towards him with intent, grabbing a fistful of his shirt as he practically foamed at the mouth. 'You better watch that smart little mouth. I'll have you out on the street before you can wind another fairytale-'  

 

'Do what you want. The cops will have a field day with you when I tell them about your hobbies. Self-medicating, falsifying medical records... should I go on?' Jaebum raised his voice, turning a few heads from the staff. His father's grip on his shirt tightened momentarily, eyes bulging, before he let go abruptly, and Jaebum scoffed, walking away. 'Didn't think so.'  

 

- 

 

Youngjae awoke in the freezing cold, unable to feel his feet. He threw the blankets off calmly, feet hitting the chill floor without a flinch before he walked slowly to the bathroom. Drawing a bath without checking the temperature, he brushed his teeth mechanically before stripping out of his pyjamas in the frigid air and submerging himself slowly in the icy water.  

 

He scrubbed his goose-bumped skin, shivering, then pulled the plug and stood before the mirror again, chest heaving from the cold. He'd lost weight, and the spark was gone from his eyes; hair lank and wet and just a little too long. His eyes were red rimmed – he hadn't been sleeping – and the bags beneath them were almost purple.  

 

Dressed in his usual day clothes, shoes fastened, he ate a simple, bland breakfast, though he had no appetite. The windows were frosted from the frigid temperature outside, a shockingly bitter December. Snow was already on the ground, and when he stood on the roof, it was beneath his feet, crisp and crunching, untouched apart from his lone footprints.  

 

He looked out over the city as it woke up, the sun pale as it rose and painted every window of the highrises downtown white. His breath fogged and the wind ripped through his blazer, dialing his bosses number on his cellphone as his cheeks blanched and his fingers turned numb. 

 

'Ah, good morning! It's Choi Youngjae!' He called into the receiver cheerfully, though his face held no emotion. 'I quit.' 

 

He pressed the end call button before she could reply, dropping his phone to the ground and climbing up onto the wall of the roof, edging forwards until his toes peeked over the edge. He could see people walking to work, the homeless man who lived outside wrapping himself tighter in his newspaper blanket, and for a second he thought he saw Jaebum run into the apartment. It couldn't be that, though, because Jaebum was gone, and Jackson was gone.  

 

Jinyoung had disappeared from the clinic, and Youngjae hadn't been able to find anything about him. Yugyeom and Bambam had helped him put out missing person fliers, had helped him scour the neighbourhood, but he was gone. He'd let Mark down, his film wasn't worth shit, and the loneliness had devoured him in just over a month. 

 

He drew a deep lungful of cold air, eyes taking in the clear blue sky. Would anyone miss him? His mother would cry and call the newspapers for her fifteen minutes of fame and pity, and his father would just shrug and say he saw it coming, that the arty types always burned out eventually. His sister would miss him, and guilt stung him at the thought of her finding out, the absense of her familiar laugh in place of her cries of heartache. 

 

But if he stayed, what did he have? Love was something he'd never truly experienced, despite Bambam's drunken admittance of feeling something akin to the emotion. He'd always been a nuisance to Jaebum, and Jackson, though Youngjae thought they were close, hadn't even stuck around to seek his comfort and guidance after Mark's passing.  

 

He'd dropped out of art school, just quit his job and had no prospects for a career in this goldfish bowl of a city. In ten years he'd still be here, in this shitty apartment without the sound of his friends laughter, freezing to death as painfully as the homeless man outside.  

 

As he took one final breath, the cool air burning his lungs, he heard Mark's words, his plea to have Youngjae finish his film. For a moment he hesitated, but a strong gust of wind caught him, the iciness of the wall beneath his feet making him slip. The air rushed from his lungs as he lost balance, but suddenly strong arms were around his waist, pulling him back down to the roof roughly enough that he fell to the floor heavily.  

 

Jaebum's face hovered over him as he fell to his knees too from the effort, eyes wide and cheeks red from the cold.  

 

'What the fuck do you think you're doing?' He yelled, 'Have you not seen enough death already?' 

 

'I slipped-'  

 

'-You were on that ledge for a reason and it wasn't for the fucking view.' Jaebum didn't look angry, his expression full of anguish and disappointment, and Youngjae suddenly realised that Mark was right, that Jaebum didn't hate him at all. 'God, you're an idiot.' Jaebum sighed tiredly, pulling him into a rough hug before kissing him hard on the forehead, and Youngjae could only rest his head on his shoulder dumbly.   

 

- 

 

When Youngjae told Jaebum that Jinyoung was missing, his heart broke all over again, his mouth going dry. It was below freezing outside, and calling up his workplace revealed he hadn't been there since the break up. If Jinyoung was out there alone without any money, he'd freeze to death, especially in the condition he'd been in when Jaebum had left.  

 

Jaebum found his drug dealer and roughed him up, asking where Jinyoung was, and despite his claims not to know, Jaebum just kicked him again. If he remembered Jaebum's face from all those years ago, how would he not remember Jinyoung, his best customer? Insisting he hadn't seen him since Christmas, Jaebum left him be, blood on the snow and an emptiness in his heart. 

 

They searched everywhere, tirelessly, until Jaebum caught the flu and Youngjae had to tie him to the bed to stop him from going out and searching again. He knew it was life threatening to even consider risking the cold or waste his energy when his immune system was weakened with his disease, but as he lay in bed he felt overwhelmed, useless, and every second meant Jinyoung could be out there freezing to death or curled up in a crack den because Jaebum hadn't been strong enough to love him.  

 

It was Christmas by the time Jaebum was well enough to stay awake for more than five hours, and he sat on the sofa as Youngjae set up his film with a projector, old school with the reel that counts down from five. It was warm for once – his dad had cosied up to him in the face of Jaebum's threats to reveal him for the abusive snake he was, pulling out all the stops to keep him quiet, which also included not poisoning his mother anymore.  

 

The stove crackled, illuminating the room in gold as it warmed his feet, a blanket over his shoulders as he plucked a melody from his new guitar, setting it down every now and then to scratch out a lyric from his notebook and replace it with something that sounded better.  

 

Youngjae was pottering around, wiring this into that when the calm was disturbed by a knock on the door followed by a familiar voice. 'Merry Christmas, bitches!' 

 

Youngjae brightened at the sound, rushing to open the door and wrapping Jackson in a bear hug, taking the air from his lungs as he laughed. 'Damn, a fire? You guys are splashing out.'  

 

'Where the fuck did you go?' Jaebum chuckled, bumping Jackson's fist when Youngjae finally released him. The younger man sat down heavily beside him, passing him a beer from a plastic bag. 'Did you go back to your internship?' 

 

'Nah, I quit. Got sick of getting people coffee and listening to their shitty lives tales around the water cooler. I didn't even get to go into the recording studios, I don't know why I stayed so long before.'  

 

'What were you doing, then?' Youngjae chirped, grabbing a beer and sitting by the fire.  

 

'This and that, volunteering at a gym, should have a paying job in the works soon. I'm just trying to do what I actually want, like Mark wanted me to.' He grinned, 'Anyway, pizza's on me tonight. Rewired the atm down the street to dish out money when you type in a pin – M-A-R-K.' 

 

They all chuckled, raising their beers as a toast.  

 

Youngjae's phone rang, and as he listened to the voice on the other end, his face turned from joy to worry to shock, and he jumped to his feet urgently. 'Ok, ok we'll be right out.' His words were rushed, frantic. 'Bambam and Yugyeom found Jinyoung'. Jaebum's eyes widened in fear, not even daring to hope Jinyoung was in any healthy state, and Jackson just looked perplexed, the two of them asking 'What?' in unison. 'They're outside, he can't walk - Jackson, help me bring him up.' 

 

'I'll go-' Jaebum made to stand, but Youngjae pushed him back down to his seat firmly. 'You're too weak, wait here; get the sofa ready and stoke the fire or something - just wait.' 

Jaebum made to argue, but Youngjae and Jackson were already pounding down the stairs. He looked around the apartment in desperation, running his hand through his hair before he shrugged off his blanket and cleared the sofa hurriedly, pacing back and forth until the sound of hurried footsteps echoed up the stairwell and Jackson emerged with Jinyoung limp and gaunt in his arms. 

 

'Oh god.' He breathed, heart dropping. Jackson's eyes were pained, and Youngjae followed behind looking just as horrified. Jackson set his thin frame down gently on the sofa, immediately moving away as if he knew Jaebum would rush to his side, stroking Jinyoung's bangs back from his pale, sweating face. His eyes were unfocused, roaming the room even as Jaebum leaned over him, stroking his cheek and pleading with his broken voice. 'Look at me, look at me, god, please Jinyoung-' 

 

'We found him in the park on our way home, curled up on a bench freezing to death. He has a fever, it looks like he's been living rough for a while.' Yugyeom supplied, while Bambam stood beside him clutching his hand, consumed with worry. 'He begged to come here, but he started saying nonsense after that.' 

 

Jinyoung seemed to realise Jaebum was there all of a sudden, his cold hand coming to hold Jaebum's cheek tenderly as a soft smile pulled at his chapped, blue lips. 'I know you.' 

 

'We need to buy more wood, something to eat-' Youngjae chattered, arms folded as he watched Jinyoung nervously, and Jackson stood beside him watching with defeat. 

 

'It’s too late for that.' 

 

'I heard that.' Jinyoung's hand left Jaebum's cheek, pointing lazily in Jackson's direction as he smirked.  

 

'We'll call an ambulance.' Bambam assured him, but Jinyoung shook his head. 

 

'Don't waste your money on me.' Yugyeom was already punching in the number, cursing in frustration after a few moments. 

 

'I'm on hold.' 

 

'I'm cold.' Jinyoung breathed, curling in on himself, and Jaebum grabbed his blanket from the floor, warmed by the fire, and draped it over Jinyoung. His eyes began to droop, and Jaebum shook him by the shoulders gently, panicking. 

 

'Hey, hey – stay with me.' 

 

'Hm. Jaebum?' 

 

'Yeah, it's me.' 

 

'I need you to know, I lied, back then... I didn't want you to see-' 

 

'I know. You need to know... when I left, it wasn't because I didn't l-' 

 

'I know.' He breathed, turning away to cough roughly, and Jaebum's heart shook with every rasping choke. Jinyoung took Jaebum's hand in his own icy one, smoothing over his knuckles as he met his eyes once again. He licked his lips, struggling to catch his breath. 'Jaebum, I... I was upset at you for not saying it, but I never told you either.' 

 

'What?' 

 

Jinyoung beamed dizzily, his grip suddenly tightening and his smile turning to a grimace as he fought to speak. 'I love you.' His breath gave out on the last word, and his eyes drifted once again, his hand going limp in Jaebum's. 

 

'No, no, stay with me, stay with me.' Jaebum pleaded, words growing in hysteria, and Jinyoung battled to focus again even though he looked exhausted. The others were standing around in despair, unable to say or do a thing to help and leaving the moment for the two of them. 'I wrote your song, hey, come on hold on for a little bit, Jinyoung.'  

 

Jaebum reached for his guitar, perching beside Jinyoung's legs on the sofa and wiping the tears from his cheeks, plucking at the strings until he remembered the melody. Jinyoung's eyes were half lidded and his breaths were wheezing, but he was watching. That was enough for Jaebum, if Jinyoung could just hear what he'd promised him all those months ago. 

 

'It isn't much but it took all year.' 

 

_Your eyes_

_As we said our goodbyes_

_Can't get them out of my mind_

_And I find I can't hide_

_From your eyes_

_The ones that took me by surprise_

_The night you came into my life_

_Where there's moonlight I see your eyes_

_How'd I let you slip away_

_When I'm longing so to hold you_

_Now I'd die for one more day_

_'Cause there's something I should have told you_

_Yes there's something I should have told you_

_When I looked into your eyes_

_Why does distance make us wise?_

_You were the song all along_

_And before this song dies_

_I should tell you I should tell you_

_I have always loved you_

_You can see it in my eyes_  

 

Jinyoung's head tilted limply to the side, eyes closing and mouth slacking, and a gasp resounded in the room.  

 

'Jinyoung!' Jaebum cried, setting his guitar aside, and pulling his limp body up into his arms, fingers running over his eyelids, his cheek, his lips before he kissed them soundly, burying his nose in his hair.  

 

'Oh, God.' Bambam gasped into his hand, Yugyeom pulling him to his chest as he closed his own eyes from the sight. Youngjae and Jackson could only stand watching in silence, too stunned to cry. 

 

Jaebum's heart could've stopped beating for all he cared, robbed of the chance to give Jinyoung the love he deserved, and he held him tight enough to hurt, not ready to let him go just yet. He felt him shift, and the air left his lungs as he nuzzled into Jaebum's neck. 'M'not dead yet, idiot.' 

 

'Fucking hell.' Jackson breathed, deflating with a weak laugh, tears finally breaking through, and Youngjae laughed incredulously beside him, hugging him from the side in relief. Jaebum let him go enough to see his face, unable to believe what was happening.  

 

'I was in a tunnel. Heading for this warm, white light-' 

 

'Oh my god...' Bambam breathed, clutching Yugyeom's side tightly. 

 

'And I swear Mark was there,' he glanced at Jackson, the older man swallowing a lump in his throat, 'and he told me, "Turn around, asshole, and listen to that stupid boy's song"' 

 

Jaebum choked a laugh, pressing his forehead against Jinyoung's in exhaustion, brushing their noses together before he kissed him thoroughly, as if to squeeze him for every tender embrace he had left. 

 

- 

 

Jinyoung refused to go to the hospital, just as stubborn as Mark, and they relented to his wishes, Jaebum sitting with him and running a cool cloth over his forehead. Yugyeom kneeled beside him, worried sick. 'He's drenched.' 

 

Jaebum just smiled, relieved. 'His fever's breaking.' 

 

'Thank God.'  

 

'Thank God this moment wasn't their last.' Jackson muttered, smiling to Youngjae sadly and patting him on the shoulder. 'Is your film all set up?' 

 

'Yeah, yeah- hang on.' Youngjae muttered absently, swiping at his wet cheeks and going back to his camera, fiddling around with whatever. Jaebum couldn't draw his eyes away from Jinyoung as he slept peacefully, scared he might never wake up, that he might never get to profess his feelings again. He wanted to hold him every second of every day, to roll over and see him sketching away in the morning sun, to see him laugh and cry, to fight and swear and fall back into bed with eachother in the end. He wanted to live his life over again, to fill the emptiness with memories and Jinyoung's voice.  

 

When Bambam announced it was midnight, that it was Christmas Day, the same time last year when all of this had started, Jaebum was tucked against the sofa with Jinyoung, holding him close to his chest and waiting for him to wake up. His breathing was still shallow, but he was warmer now and his sleep was no longer fitful and delirious but deep and sound.  

 

The others were sitting around the stove eating pizza, and he didn't miss the caring glances Jackson and Youngjae kept throwing his way whenever they thought he wasn't looking. He was an idiot in so many ways, to not see Jinyoung's love, to not see the love of his friends. He had everything, and he was blind for not seeing it sooner. 

 

He looked up when Youngjae clapped his hands suddenly, a big grin on his face. 'Okay, it's all set up, get comfortable!' He flicked a switch and tottered to sit beside Jackson, stealing his last slice of pizza and making the older man pull an expression similar to a kicked puppy. They'd pinned a white sheet to the wall above the stove, and the projector lit it brightly for a moment before numbers appeared counting down from five.  

 

Jaebum felt Jinyoung stir against him, nuzzling into the armrest before his eyes flickered open and he turned to look at Jaebum, smiling beautifully, and Jaebum smiled back. He pressed his lips against Jinyoung's neck, watching as Youngjae's film began to play, and Jinyoung watched too. 

 

A piece of music he'd composed himself resounded through the room as a clip of Jaebum tuning his guitar played. His hair was jet black then and a short, straight fringe was cut high on his forehead, making Jinyoung chuckle, to which he pinched him. He looked grumpy as ever, not seeing Youngjae recording him until the last second of the clip where his eyes caught the camera like two chips of coal, eyebrows dipping. He couldn't remember what happened after that, but he probably didn't encourage Youngjae's filmmaking.  

 

There were a few shots of Bambam, back when he and Youngjae were still together, probably just 18 then. He was painting his face in the mirror for an animal rights protest Jaebum could vaguely remember attending for the sake of it, but he paused for a moment, staring blankly at his reflection. For a moment he actually looked vulnerable, unsure, and Jaebum felt like he was seeing a completely different person sat there. It was gone just as it came, though, as he caught Youngjae in the mirror and his façade was back, performing for the camera, performing for everybody. Jaebum glanced at the kid, and he looked shocked himself, confused as his eyes wandered from the screen to gaze at Yugyeom, taking his hand suddenly and looking away before Yugyeom could ask him what was wrong. 

 

Yugyeom, red faced with inebriation, gyrating his hips on the floor as Bambam watched with pride and Mark tried fruitlessly to pull him up and preserve his dignity. 

 

There was Jackson back when he lived here, doing push-ups obsessively, always obsessed with his body. In fact, Jaebum hadn't even noticed the compulsion until now. He'd always been working out before, but when he moved back in, when he was with Mark, he didn't so much as flex a muscle. He smiled a cheesy grin at the camera, kissing his sweaty bicep and doing various macho-man poses, making the group erupt in giggles as he mimicked himself on screen. 

 

A few shots of the three of them doing various other things rolled by, of them dissolving in laughter or crying at a film or simply sitting there, lost in thought. It struck Jaebum just how much Youngjae watched them, how often he observed, the beauty he saw in their small peculiarities.  

 

In the mix was a shot of Jinyoung coming back from work, long before Jaebum even knew his name. It looked like they'd bumped into each other on the stairwell, because Jinyoung was smiling shyly, mouth forming words as if he was asking Youngjae what he wanted him to do. He looked unsure, insecure, shifting from foot to foot as if he didn’t want to do anything but run into his apartment and hide.  

 

Bambam on stage, Jinyoung and Jaebum holding hands in the crowd, the smile on Jinyoung's face when Jaebum was looking anywhere but at him in his nervousness. Snow falling outside while Jaebum smoked a cigarette and strummed his guitar, perched on the fire escape even in the biting cold. Jackson shotgunning a beer and nearly choking to death followed by him completely wrecked and giggling like an idiot, then passed out sluggishly in Mark's arms. Jinyoung and Jaebum trading tender glances after their first kiss on Boxing Day, and Yugyeom's face of quiet adoration as he watched Bambam speak.  

 

The moment Mark's face appeared, it was if all the air in the room had gone still, nobody daring to breathe. The first few shots he was hiding his face, embarrassed to be on camera, but Youngjae had a way of catching you before you even knew he was there.  

 

Mark and Jinyoung were lazing on the sofa, wrapped around each other with their mouths wide open in slumber, while Jackson popped grapes into Mark's mouth, cackling wildly as it filled and they began to roll out. Mark waking with a start, eyes wide as he choked, a whole bag of grapes bursting from his mouth. He looked at Jackson for a long moment before he jumped up and chased him, the two of them doing laps around the sofa while Jinyoung slept on unfazed.  

 

Mark cutting Bambam's hair while the younger man chattered non-stop, Mark's mouth moving only to smile or chuckle softly. Mark and Jackson at a life support meeting while Jackson spoke, Mark's eyes never leaving him as he listened, enraptured. A park in the summer, Mark giving Jackson a Chinese burn before kissing him soundly on the mouth, the two of them collapsing to the ground in a heated make-out session while Jaebum pulled faces at the camera.  

 

Mark hovering outside the apartment door looking perplexed while Jaebum danced the full choreography to a kpop song on the radio thinking nobody was watching. Passing people pieces of an orange, setting down a mug of coffee for Yugyeom as he held his head in his hands after another break-up. Playing monopoly with fire in his eyes and screaming in frustration whenever somebody broke the rules.  

 

Every other image was of Mark simply watching people, looking after them in small ways, and all of them could see it now if they hadn't noticed before. There were shots of them on New Year's, Jackson in his stupid outfit and Mark swigging champagne like it was juice. Fireworks reflected in Jinyoung's eyes, and Jinyoung reflected in Jaebum's. Bambam watching Yugyeom laugh with Jackson, his eyes soft and full of emotion in his unusual moment of silence. Jackson and Jaebum roughing eachother up, Mark breaking down the door.  

 

Jaebum writing, playing his guitar, balling up his paper in frustration. Jinyoung sketching on the steps of the fire escape in the sunlight, Jaebum's shirt three sizes too big for him and hanging off loosely. Mark and Jinyoung stupidly drunk, dancing on the bar on Boxing Day while Jaebum and Jackson watched in awe, the two putting on a performance of kissing each other filthily while Jackson patted Jaebum on the back in congratulations, looking as if he'd got the best Christmas present he could've wished for before a waitress forced them to get down.  

 

Jinyoung teaching Jackson how to pole dance, and Jackson insisting he learn bare-chested and doused in lotion. Jackson slipping on some lotion and nearly giving himself a concussion, and nobody coming to his aid due to their paralysing fits of laughter.  

 

Mark's hands shaking as he ate breakfast. Mark rubbing his eyes. Mark crying in the bathroom. Darkness. Flowers on Mark's bedside table. The same flowers decayed and crumbling. Marks hand in Jinyoung's. Jackson's head on Mark's pillow, asleep while Mark watched him, carding his fingers through his hair. Mark writing Jinyoung's letter as the younger man slept on the sofa, wiping away his tears as he wrote. A shot of Mark at his weakest, unflinchingly gazing into Youngjae's lens with a confident smile.  

 

And as the music faded, a still frame, the photograph Youngjae took on Mark's birthday, of all of them looking truly, truly happy. 

- 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you all so much for sticking with story and commenting – it really encouraged me to get this done (even though I should definitely be writing an essay right now haha). Sadly, it isn't too hard to imagine the boys thin and gaunt... Jackson looked so much better in the Identify era, he's so thin now! Eat boys, eat! I hope the ending wasn't disappointing – I wanted to finish on a note of how things aren't perfect, because they never will be; life has dips and valleys, but for a moment they're at peace with some closure, because really I couldn't write a happy ending considering the subject matter. I hope every member had some satisfying depth of character or something of a story arc as I tried to write as much as possible for everyone – Bambam and Yugyeom feel woefully underwritten! But I hope their quirks and the intricacies of their relationship came through. Once again, thank you for reading! And as always, this will never be the last you see of me... plenty more writing in me yet, especially for these boys. What awful things will I put them through next?


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